


I'm Never Coming Down

by dykeadellic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:10:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2542121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dykeadellic/pseuds/dykeadellic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Meg lay dying outside the warehouse, the Horseman Death comes to her with his reaper, deciding to give Meg new life based on his own whims, and how she was becoming more and more human with every day. When Meg awakes, she has no recollection of ever being a demon. She’s a budding model with an awesome friend/agent, and a slightly off-putting bodyguard, Tessa. Everything is great in her life, until she starts getting bad headaches, weird telekinetic powers, and memories that she can’t possibly account for. When out with Tessa one day, she runs into Castiel and ends up collapsed on the floor of the Starbucks as she begins to remember just who she is and isn’t. But Death himself has a secret; Meg holds in her the very cure for all of demon kind. With Castiel now aware she’s alive and determined to have her help him, Meg is once again sucked into the world of the Supernatural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Meg felt like she was floating on a cloud, and her vision and hearing slowly returned to her as though she were waking from a deep sleep. It took her a moment to realize she was staring at the night sky and another moment to realize there were voices talking animatedly around her.

“But why bring her back? She’s a demon!” a female voice demanded.

“It is not up to you who dies. You should remember that I created you, and unlike God, I have no problem reaping my own creations,” said a male voice that sounded older than time. 

With every reverberation of the male’s voice, Meg felt like she saw time passing by and centuries flashing through the night sky.

“You have become arrogant, Tessa, and you are assuming she’s only a demon. Yet she just sacrificed herself for an Angel which is something completely unheard of. It would be an honor for you to reap her, and it’s an even bigger one to say you watched her come back.”

Meg tried to move, but she couldn’t feel her body. She was oddly calm considering this fact. She felt at ease and at peace. There was the crunch of gravel, and then a face was looming in front of hers. It was a face older than any demon or angel. Meg wondered if this face was even older than god himself. The small wrinkles seemed to speak of centuries on other planets, and Meg felt she could unfold all of history in this face. As she locked eyes with him, Meg saw millions of galaxies crash and burn, new ones being born, and billions upon billions of dead souls being reaped.

There was a soft grumble from somewhere behind her that most likely belonged to the woman, or perhaps she was a girl. Either way, the voice sounded familiar and stirred something in her. 

The man glanced up sharply as he said, “Meghan is her real name. It’s Welsh, well, originally Greek in origin, but languages all sound the same to me anymore. Her last name never mattered.”

The man looked down at Meg fondly. “You see Meghan here lived during the Roman rule of Wales. She didn’t sell her soul for land, or a good marriage, or to win a kingdom. She sold her soul to save her child that was dying. She knew the cost, and when they dragged her to hell kicking and screaming, she said it would always be worth it. Such an extraordinary thing for a human being.”

There was the sound of an impatient foot stamping. The man snapped his fingers and silence followed. And still the night sky loomed over Meg, light, cool sprinkles of rain hitting her skin. It seemed almost poetic; cool, soft rain in her final moments. 

“This was the last thing she saw as a human, and it’ll be the first thing she sees as a human again. I have big plans for Meghan. She more than deserves this. The girl who died selflessly as a human, and then again as a demon. She fought hatred with love, and in the end, it is why I am giving her this gift.”

He stroked her face softly. “I am one of the horsemen, Meghan. I am Death. And I am here to give you life.”


	2. Chapter 2

Meg’s eyes flew open, and she jolted up in her bed as though she’d been struck across the face. She felt like a very important dream was slipping away from her, and she tried her best to catch it before it could do just that. As is usual with dreams, it floated away, leaving Meg with nothing but a very uneasy feeling in its wake.

It took Meg a moment to register the beeping of an alarm clock, and she raised her hand to slam it off, all the while thinking that she didn’t remember the last time she had owned an alarm clock. But that wasn’t quite right, was it? She always used her alarm clock. She shook her head while thinking that she must’ve had one hell of a dream to make her completely forget something as simple as that.

Meg got up as her mind flooded with small details. It was almost as though she were reliving her entire life in a moment. She rubbed her forehead as pain accompanied the memories and tried to rid herself of the ache. It was gone as quickly as it came, leaving Meg only slightly confused. No matter. She had a photo shoot she needed to make sure she got to on time. This week it was Vogue she was modeling for. 

Meg’s feet pattered across the hard wood of her penthouse. Her T-shirt hung off her frame as she made her way into the kitchen to fix coffee. Meg was still trying to recall her dream, but every attempt left her with a headache. It was silly. After all, it was just a dream, whatever it had been about, she told herself. Yet she couldn’t help feeling like the dream was an integral part of her somehow.

Her cell phone went off as she tried to get herself together, and for a moment she didn’t recognize the name on the screen. But Michelle was her agent and close friend, and the person who kept everything together for her.

“Hey,” Meg answered, not bothering to be formal. 

All of Meg’s gigs were set up by Michelle, so no one besides Michelle ever bothered to call Meg about anything. Meg never really had to make any life decisions, and at that moment, for a brief second, she wondered why not. She was certainly capable of making her own choices.

But then the moment passed, and again she was shaking her head, finishing her coffee, and reaching for a bottle of water in the fridge. Her diet was essential to staying a model, but for some reason she was craving fatty foods. She shook her head while telling herself the cravings would pass soon. She would be fine, just as she had always been.

“You remember the Vogue shoot is today, right?” Michelle half asked, half demanded. 

Meg rolled her eyes, pausing from her gulping to answer. “Of course. I’m no idiot, Michelle. I’ll be there soon. I just woke up about five minutes ago.”

There was a pause and then, “I know you aren’t an idiot,” Michelle said softly. “I just always call you, and then I always remind you not to eat, and to fill your stomach with water.”

Meg stood there for a moment, remembering that this was indeed true. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, just woke up from a pretty awful nightmare. It has me edgy,” Meg lied. 

Michelle seemed to accept this while eagerly saying that of course she understood, to be ready for the car to pick her up in twenty, and NOT to wash her hair. They needed the slight oils for styling. Meg nodded along, agreeing, but inwardly felt it was stupid. She knew this. But then she knew she usually forgot this, and Michelle was paid to remind her. As she hung up her stomach grumbled, and Meg wanted to punch her agent in the face. Surely a small bit of food couldn’t hurt? She’d make the driver pick something up for her before they went to the set. 

Meg was a whirlwind after that, flinging things off and on, until she was happy with what she was wearing. Not that she’d be allowed to keep it on, but it was still fun. As the alarm on her phone went off, she grabbed another bottle of water, drinking it down as quickly as she would holy water.

Which was absurd because why in the hell would she even try to drink holy water? It was just water. Meg doubted the Pope really blessed all those little vials of water. And even if he did, she was sure that they weren’t harmful to drink. Meg gave another shake of her head. She really needed to cut the television off before she went to sleep. Whatever was playing while she was asleep was obviously having a not so great effect on her.

Meg stepped outside, and for a brief moment she’d no clue where her vehicle was. She felt so lost for a moment, and in that moment she swore she could see a beautiful man in a trench coat watching her. But when she blinked, he vanished, leaving no trace that he ever even existed to begin with. 

“Tessa, there you are,” Meg said moodily, “Where’s the car? I wanted to stop by McDonalds or Starbucks or something before the shoot.”

Tessa guided her to the vehicle, even going so far as to hold the door open for Meg. Meg shook her head, deciding to just go with it. She always did think Tessa had a bit of a thing for her, and hey, Meg openly swung both ways. It was part of her selling point as a model. Except the actual words used were “Can she play well with others?” To which Michelle responded coyly, “Oh, she plays well with everyone.” And that was how Meg got her first modeling job. 

Too many of the models felt weird doing naked shoots with other women. But Meg? She didn’t care. It was all fun and games. Or it had been. Now Meg was dreading work, which really wasn’t like her at all. She chalked it up to that dream, whatever the hell it had been about, throwing her off her fucking game.

As Tessa passed up every Starbucks and fast food place on the way, Meg started feeling irritated. “Can’t a girl get a bite to eat?” she asked moodily.

“You know you can’t. I am not about to get chewed out because you’re on your period or something and craving shit. You want food, you should have woken up earlier to fix it. The clothes have to fit you, and if your stomach is holding too much, it won’t. You chose to be a model, Meg. Deal with it,” she said matter-of-factly. 

“Seriously?” she grumbled, while her stomach growled along in protest. 

The shoot didn’t take long, or perhaps Meg was used to the time passing. She had to get in the zone to do the shoot, and this one was a solo shoot, which made it a bit easier and--in some ways--a bit harder. She wasn’t fighting for the attention of the camera—like sometimes was the case during a non-solo shoot—but she also had no one’s energy to feed off of. Some of the models she worked with—like that one redhead that she found slightly familiar—were so much fun to be around. They helped keep her boosted and vice versa. 

But it was better to work alone than work with a model that would try to upstage you rather than find a happy middle. Meg was told by Michelle that the same was true with acting, something Meg wanted to try, but everyone said she would need extensive acting classes. What the fuck ever.

When the shoot was done, Michelle was nowhere in sight. Thankfully Tessa was there, standing off to the side rather uncomfortably with a box of food in her hand. 

“It’s not a burger, but it’s a chef salad, so there’s all types of things in it that you’re craving,” Tessa said briskly.

“No, it’s perfect,” she told the woman, who gave her an appraising look, as though Meg had just passed some sort of test she wasn’t aware she’d even been given.

“Is there anything else that needs to be done for the day?” Meg questioned.

Tessa looked through the clipboard. “Nope, we had just the one shoot today, but it does seem that you have one every day this week. I would say workout, but you have the home gym, so if Michelle feels that you need to be reminded, she can do the reminding on that one. So… unless you have anywhere you need to go, that’s everything for the day.”

For a moment Meg thought she saw a flash of something. Like a flash of Tessa, but in a different way somehow. Like something had suddenly changed. It was gone as quickly as it came, and then the head pain was back. 

“Ow!” Meg gasped out as she clutched at her head.

“Could we stop by a pharmacy or something? I need some Excedrin. My headache has been off and on all day,” she grumbled.

“Sure. Let’s get you into the car,” Tessa said softly, something in her tone that Meg didn’t recognize.

Then again, when had Meg ever really taken the time to get to know Tessa? Not only was the woman her driver, but Tessa was also her bodyguard. She was apparently one of the best, and while Meg had never had to find out if that was true or not, she felt in her heart that this was a fact.

Meg must have fallen asleep before they even made it to the pharmacy because the next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake by Tessa who ordered her to take a pill and go lay down. Meg complied, not wanting to argue. Her head still ached a bit, and she collapsed into her bed after downing another bottle of water, thinking maybe she was a bit dehydrated. She needed to watch that.

Meg didn’t dream. It was just blackness that engulfed her in a welcoming way, as though she’d always been a part of it. 

When Meg opened her eyes, Michelle was sitting on her bed and flipping through her cell phone. Her friend and manager was most likely scheduling meetings and such while Meg had slept.

“What time is it?” Meg mumbled, drowsily.

“Time for you to go back to sleep. And I’m not sure you can given how much you just slept, so I brought you a sleeping pill,” Michelle said in an authoritative voice as she handed over the little pill.

“Take it now. I fixed a salad for you to eat, and you should wake up right on time tomorrow.”

Meg let out a low laugh. “Trying to drug me now?” she joked. 

Michelle smirked. “Only when it’s for your own good. If you’re still having headache problems tomorrow, we’ll get you in to see a doctor. But for now, all we can do is have you drink some water, eat some salad, and get plenty of sleep,” Michelle chided like a mom. 

Meg rolled her eyes, but she had no problem doing what she was told.

“I didn’t work out today,” she mumbled to Michelle as she cuddled back up in her bed.

“There’s always tomorrow. You need to feel well or you can’t work, and you’re finally getting the attention we’ve been waiting for. I’ve a ton of meetings scheduled, and they are all because of your beautiful face!”

Meg, however, was already drifting to sleep and incapable of caring about anything Michelle had to say. Michelle had a key and could let herself out, so what did it matter if she—Meg—passed out now? She was just so worn out.

As she slept she dreamt of a blue-eyed man who was larger than life, with a voice deeper than the ocean. When she woke, all she remembered was those blue eyes and the way they seemed to look at her like he was trying to figure out the deepest mysteries of the universe. 

She felt better today. She didn’t think too much of the blue-eyed man, though she did wonder idly if she’d perhaps seen him before at a shoot. He was certainly gorgeous enough to be a model; blue eyes weren’t much of a description, however, and the rest of his features blurred in her mind.

Meg did feel even less like herself, and yet more like herself if that made any sense. She was slightly bolder today, and a fraction of a second quicker to respond. Yet she didn’t dwell on this new her. It was what it was. Besides, one couldn’t be less themselves and more themselves at the same time. It was impossible.

She chalked it up to starting to feel better. She posed for the camera, and the photographer said this may be her best shoot yet. She always heard that, but this time he sounded like he might actually mean it.

Tessa didn’t say much when Meg demanded fast food, and who cared? She worked doubly hard in the gym after she ate, so she knew she burned it off. She should be able to eat more than just rabbit food on occasion. Michelle was too paranoid about Meg losing her figure.

Tessa did ask how her head was doing, though it sounded like she was doing it out of a sense of duty rather than any real concern. Not that one could ever be certain about anything when it came to Tessa.

“It feels fine. I guess yesterday was just an off day,” she’d replied with a shrug, and Tessa nodded, indicating the subject was dropped, closed, and put up in a box for safe keeping. 

That night Meg dreamed of nurse scrubs and the blue-eyed man looking broken yet happy, like he was beginning to understand the secrets of the universe. This time he looked at her like she might just be that answer.

When she awoke, she once again felt slightly different and slightly more her. It wasn’t anything she could pinpoint, but she actually cracked a joke that got a genuine smile on set at the photo shoot. That was definitely something that she’d never been able to do before.

It wasn’t that Meg was dumb. She knew random, useless facts. She could study any subject and absorb the knowledge. But when it came to making puns or witty comments? Count her out. She was not the person for that. 

Still, it was only a small joke, and it didn’t even get a full on laugh. Yet that smile that she shared with the model she was working with ended up being the best shot, so in the end it was a very successful work day.

This time she had sushi for lunch and offered some to Tessa. The woman looked slightly shocked, but nonetheless she accepted the sushi. Meg hit the gym harder than before, enjoying the feeling of actually working out. She wanted muscle and tone, not just to be skinny. She wanted to look and feel good. 

That night she dreamt of devotion to a fork tongued man. Promises were made and oaths were shattered. Although this time she barely knew the blue-eyed man, she already loved him.

When she woke there was a slight twinge in her head. It was more annoying than painful, and she absently told Tessa about it in an effort to fill the silence in the car. Tessa looked at her for a long moment before suggesting that it might be sinus related. The weather was changing up and fast. Meg could find no flaw in that reasoning, and it quite honestly made sense. She barely noticed how Tessa kept looking at her in the rear view mirror with a guarded expression on her face. 

Today’s shoot was dumb. Some product promotion going on, so she had to do awkward poses with an ugly ass purse. These were stances no one ever made in real life. She did it, of course, but she scoffed a time or two and made one remark that the photographer looked slightly impressed at. Only slightly though. He thought it was just as stupid, but he was paid to capture her the way the company wanted. Besides, consumers were idiots who would eat it all up and call her gorgeous, despite how stupid and awkward she actually looked.

Meg decided to skip lunch and just hit the pool. She wanted to clean herself of the dream she’d had. Not of the blue-eyed man, but of the _other_ one. Something about him just didn’t sit right with her.

That night she dreamt of nothing; it was a blissfully quiet sleep. 

Upon opening her eyes, she found that Michelle was there and complaining about shoots being canceled and idiot photographers. Meg shrugged it off. It meant the weekend was here early for her, and that was always enjoyable. 

“Whatever happened to that cute guy that performed miracles awhile back?” Michelle asked suddenly while she made pancakes and Meg poured a cup of coffee, relishing the amazing taste. There was nothing better than coffee.

“Who?” she asked absently.

“The blue-eyed man in the trench coat that was performing miracles awhile back. Or so people said, remember?”

Meg vaguely remembered something along those lines, but all she could picture was the blue-eyed man from her dreams. When she tried to think about it, it made her head almost explode with pain. But she had to keep pushing because she could almost hear his voice, and she had to hear it because she had the distinct impression that she might know him.

She never heard it. She collapsed on the floor instead while Michelle called for an ambulance. But Meg’s last hazy thought was that she missed her angel.

When Meg opened her eyes—which was a feat in itself because they felt like they were glued shut—Michelle and Tessa were there, and Meg was hooked up to a shit ton of machines. Old Meg might have whimpered, but this Meg just kicked her legs until someone paid attention to her.

“You passed out screaming this morning. Don’t you remember?” Michelle asked. 

But no, no she didn’t. All she remembered was coffee and the promise of pancakes, thank you much. Why would she be asking if she remembered?

“Do you know what caused it?” Tessa questioned as though she were interrogating Meg. 

And no, she fucking didn’t know the cause. If she couldn't even remember what happened, then how the hell was she supposed to know what caused it?

Both women looked taken back by her responses, as well they should. She was annoyed and in pain, though it felt more like a phantom ache. Tessa excused herself from the hospital room, saying she had to make a phone call. Michelle just shifted in her seat as she told Meg that they did a blood work-up and an MRI of her head.

“Why my head?” Meg croaked, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry. 

Michelle got her water as she explained how Meg collapsed—screaming, of course—with her head in her hands.

“Maybe it was one of my headaches?” Meg suggested because it was really the only suggestion she had left at this point besides fuck you.

And to be fair, fuck you was not a suggestion at all.

Michelle simply shrugged in response. She had no suggestions or answers for Meg, and it really was a matter of waiting for answers from the specialists at this point. 

When Tessa came back in a moment later, a doctor followed in her wake, asking the same stupid ass question that Michelle had asked. She made sure to tell him where to shove it with a roll of her eyes. Michelle looked startled and worried, Tessa appeared nonchalant, and the doctor looked pissed. It was almost as if he hadn’t expected her to do anything other than bemoan her situation.

“Look, I don’t know what the hell happened. My friend here was with me though. She’s also my agent. Try asking her. I know less than what she knows, are we clear?” Meg demanded.

The doctor simply scowled at her. Too bad. He was a pretty damn good looking guy, but with an attitude like that who gave a fuck. She made sure to say as much.

It irritated her because if he’d asked Michelle he’d have known the answer. And by asking Meg, it was clear he didn’t ask Michelle. He probably worried about a nurse doing that. But when someone collapsed, they usually didn’t have the answers. Besides, she was out for several hours. In all that time he never thought to figure how anyone knew to order an MRI for the obviously conscious woman?

“Attitude much?” Tessa mumbled.

“Only to assholes,” Meg insisted, which drew a thin, rare smile from Tessa.

The doctors held no answers, other than a possible sinus infection. She was given two shots of antibiotics and a prescription to pick up at the pharmacy. All in all it had been a waste of her fucking day. She made sure to write that down on the questionnaire the hospital provided her with. Because someone who’d passed out screaming with their head in their hands was really capable of doing that themselves.

Michelle looked nervous as Tessa drove them home, and it only served to put Meg more on edge. She knew her friend was worried about her. She’d be just as worried if the tables were turned. But at the moment she wanted to be home in her bed with a movie or television show on. Something. Anything. She just didn’t want to think about the bill the hospital would be sending her, and it was all for what turned out to be practically nothing. It was fucking ridiculous.

Michelle stayed with Meg, absolutely refusing to leave her friend alone, and Meg got to have takeout Chinese, which was truly the best invention ever. They settled on some romantic comedy. Not that Meg paid any attention. She was drifting in and out of sleep for pretty much the whole thing. 

That night she dreamt of two brothers. They were her enemy and her ally, and she was never really sure how such could be. Nowhere in sight was her blue-eyed man.

When she cracked her eyes open she heard someone on the phone, and it sounded like Tessa. Meg couldn’t make out the words, but she seemed frustrated, even though her voice was hushed like she was trying to keep from waking Meg up.

Meg didn’t want to get out of bed. She wanted to stay in bed and sleep forever. She felt completely wiped out, like she’d just fought a demon. Which was a weird sentiment, but she was going to go with it. It was different and Meg liked different.

Meg looked over, surprised to see that Michelle was dead asleep in bed next to her. Not that she shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t like they’d never had sleepovers before, and with as worried as Michelle was yesterday, it was really no surprise she’d stayed to watch over Meg.

Besides, Meg didn’t want her driving while half asleep, and her bed was more than big enough for the two of them to fit in. 

There was a soft knock on the door, and Tessa popped her head in, her eyes lighting on Meg. “I got your antibiotic. Can I bring it and your water in?” she whispered so as not to wake Michelle. 

Meg nodded and within seconds she’d downed her medication and was working on finishing the glass of water. 

“I’m going to go ahead and start breakfast. I’d suggest you rest until it’s done. You still have pain medication from the hospital in your system, and I don’t want you moving around too much today,” she ordered.

Meg supposed it was Tessa’s way of caring, but it came out a bit like she thought she was above Meg enough to order her to do something. Meg was too weak to even argue, though, so she nodded as sharply as possible, if that was even possible, and sank back down into bed. She curled up next to her best friend, and closed her eyes, drifting back to sleep for about half an hour.

When Meg opened her eyes this time, it was to find Michelle trying to force Meg to sit up and eat. Michelle set the plate of eggs, bacon, and toast down in front of her, on top of a little tray so that the bed wouldn’t get crumbs on it.

“Go ahead and eat up. Tessa fixed this, and it’s pretty good. I’m going to get you some orange juice and vitamins,” Michelle informed her before leaving to do just that. 

Meg took a bite of the eggs and had to agree that it was pretty damn good. Seasoned just right, actually. Of course, fresh eggs were always better than store eggs.

When Michelle came back into the room Meg had to down more pills. She hated this part of being sick. It was bullshit. But she didn’t mind the part where she got breakfast in bed, and her two best friends—you could call Tessa a best friend—lounged in her bedroom with her with the television tuned into some true crime episode. 

They all sat there trying to figure out who killed the teenager on the program, all of them disagreeing with each other. It was nice to just relax like this. Especially when Meg still felt pretty out of sorts. 

She spent the rest of the day in bed, fading in and out of sleep while the television played. She kept feeling like there was something she’d forgotten and needed to desperately remember, but thinking made her head hurt again, so she decided against that one. 

The day passed slowly, and Meg was surprised she managed to sleep through the night as much as she’d slept during the day, but she did. It was a nice, deep, dreamless sleep, and she when she woke up, she felt much better than she had yesterday. Although for some reason Meg half expected a whooshing noise to be heard. But the television was off and it was silent in her room. She could barely make out the voices of Tessa and Michelle from out in the living area. Or she was assuming it was them. Considering no one else was ever at her apartment or would be let in, she considered it a pretty safe bet. 

Meg stumbled out of the bedroom after a few minutes of lying in the quiet. She could smell a pot of coffee that was brewing, and this time Michelle was cooking something in the oven that smelled suspiciously like quiche, one of Meg’s absolute favorite things. Both women looked up as she walked slowly towards them.

“How are you feeling?” Michelle asked as she got Meg her medicine and some juice.

“Better. My head doesn’t hurt as much anymore, and I feel more awake. I’m just pretty hungry now.”

“Well, I’m cooking now. Grab some coffee and turn something on the television on. Relax a bit,” Michelle said with a smile and a glance towards Tessa, who was writing something down in a notebook.

If Meg found it strange that she was being given permission to watch television in her own house—and she did indeed—she didn’t say anything. She simply got her coffee ready and took a nice long sip, enjoying the taste.

Meg looked over at the mirror, staring at her reflection for a moment. It looked so familiar, yet she barely recognized her face. It was like she’d had lifetimes of faces, none her own, though this was perhaps the closest. 

It was a weird feeling, and it unsettled her. Meg's stomach flipped just thinking about it, and the thought of the blue-eyed stranger returned. She fingered the end of her hair, curling it around for a moment before she decided. She wanted different. Dark hair, while nice, was boring. Blonde with red tips was very much her style. Or just red… No, no, blonde with red tips. It would work for her.

“I want to go see my stylist. I need my hair done,” she announced as she turned towards Michelle, who look a bit surprised.

“Meg are you sure? How do you want your hair done? It can affect what photo shoots you get, and-”

“I said I need my hair done, Michelle. It’s mine, and frankly, if people don’t like it, I don’t give a damn. I want blonde hair... With red ends.”

When Michelle just stood there gaping Meg began to get impatient. “Never mind. I’ll make the damn appointment myself,” she snapped.

“You might want to wait on the red ends. Bleaching and then dying can do a number on your hair. Maybe wait two weeks, then do the ends, just so you don’t have breakage,” Tessa suggested while jotting something down in a notebook. 

Part of Meg wanted to hit her, and the other part knew Tessa was being reasonable. It didn’t get rid of the unreasonable anger Meg felt every time she saw Tessa. It was almost like Tessa was responsible for taking something of hers, but Meg wasn’t sure what.

“That’s a good idea. So, Michelle, are you going to make the appointment?” Meg asked.

The rest of the morning passed without incident. They watched more true crime stories while eating breakfast, and the shroud of unease that had been there earlier now seemed long ago, though Tessa was a bit more reserved than yesterday. 

Meg got her hair done that afternoon, and she was happy with how the blonde turned out. It made her think of the way someone had looked at her not too long ago, but she couldn’t put her finger on it, and at this point she had learned not to even try.

As she was coming home from her stylist, someone bumped into her, and a cup that should have dumped all over her seemed to stop in midair. The moment she realized it, the cup dropped, and no one seemed to really notice. Tessa laughed and said Meg was lucky, the woman apologized profusely, and Meg, in a good mood, accepted her apology. It hadn’t fucked her hair up, so that was all that mattered at the moment. 

But—and maybe Meg was crazy— Tessa seemed to watch her just a little bit closer, seemed to be just a little bit friendlier, and it really made no sense. 

But people couldn’t stop objects with their minds, and when actively trying to move something with her mind proved futile, she couldn’t help but laugh at herself. She was being silly. This infection had really taken a toll on her if she thought telekinesis was real. For some reason she didn’t bring it up to Michelle and Tessa as they left—finally giving her time alone. 

And as Meg fell asleep, her fingers curled in her hair, her bedroom door slowly closed on its own.


	3. Chapter 3

“The blonde hair thing is really working for you,” Michelle commented in an offhanded manner. 

She was right. Everyone loved blonde Meg, and they all wanted to hire her on the spot. She’d just finished a commercial shoot for some face product she’d never used before. Hell, besides work Meg wasn’t big on makeup. It was just part of her job. But wearing it for a while and promoting the product meant pretty good money, and Meg liked her lavish lifestyle. She was spoiled by it, and she wasn’t one to deny that about herself.

 

“I guess they do,” she said with a smirk. “Come on, Tess, let’s go get some coffee.” 

She smiled at her bodyguard, which earned her a small smile in return. In the past month, Tessa had seemed to loosen up slightly, but only slightly. She was nicer, but at times Meg felt that familiar prick of anger, as though Tessa had done something to offend her personally. Maybe it was the vibe Tessa gave off, maybe it was something else, but Meg sure as hell tried when it came to Tessa. 

Sometimes, though? She really didn’t want to. Sometimes she felt insults she didn’t even understand bubbling on her tongue. Sometimes… it felt like she was two separate people, battling it out for possession of her own mind. And that really made no sense.

Walking into the coffee shop Meg looked down, causing her to collide with someone she couldn't see coming. But this someone didn’t so much as budge. As Meg was about to throw out a taunt, her eyes locked with the bright blues, and she knew he was the person she’d seen in her dreams.

“Meg?” the gravelly voice asked almost tentatively, as though he didn’t believe he was actually seeing her.

As familiar as he seemed, Meg didn’t know him outside of her dreams. Sure, she felt like they’d been through battles together, but they really hadn’t. They were just two strangers who’d happened to run into each other. Probably because this man decided to stand in the doorway and not move. 

“Yes?” she snapped, not quite able to meet his eyes. Tessa fidgeted next to her, attempting to wedge herself between Meg and this stranger in a trench coat.

His gaze narrowed. “So all this time, you’ve been alive?” It was phrased like a question, but this was more of an accusation. There was anger and resentment in his voice. 

“Sorry, but who are you?” Tessa demanded, her voice dangerously low. 

“You know very well who I am, sister,” the man bit out, venom practically dripping from his words. 

Meg was nothing but confused at this point. 

“I’m not your sister. What are you, some stalker? Been trying to bump into the famous model for months, have you?” Tessa taunted, and the man’s face crumpled up in confusion. 

“Who are you?” Meg demanded, her eyes caught on his stubble.

“I am Castiel, an Angel of the lord,” he responded. “And you are Meghan. A demon and previous follower of Azazel… and you were my friend,” he accused again. 

The name Azazel sounded familiar, and it brought forth images of someone with yellow eyes. It also brought forth images of a blonde woman. She was short, sarcastic, and as familiar and different as this face. She was her, and yet she wasn’t, and the pain from the images was making her head explode. She couldn’t see around it, couldn’t feel around it, couldn’t hear around it, and so she was unable to hear the gasp Tessa let out.

Meg was unconscious from the pain before she even hit the ground. 

When Meg came to, the voices were the first thing she was aware of. 

“You caused this, dammit Castiel! She was fine! She was human!”

“She is still human, sister. You should have informed me that she was even brought back.” 

Meg recognized this as the man’s voice. It was low and laced with the hint of a threat, though what the threat was Meg had no clue.

The pain seemed to be better, but Meg was afraid to open her eyes. Her mind felt quiet and barren. She idly wondered whatever happened to the owner of this meatsuit.

“He didn’t want you or anyone else to know for a reason! She was supposed to have a fresh start in life, and you ruined that for her just like you got her killed! You never stopped to think about whom you might be hurting. She died for you, Castiel. Did you even once wonder what happened to her?” The hatred in Tessa’s voice was palpable. 

“I am warning you, Tessa,” the man whose very name just barely eluded her growled.

“Or what, Castiel? You’ll kill me? You will have my boss to answer to and guess what? My boss is above yours!” she snapped.

“Really now, is all this fighting necessary?” a bored, familiar voice asked. 

Once again, Meg could hear the turn of the universe in it. His voice was infinite. 

“You had no right to-” the man’s growling voice was suddenly cut off, almost as though it had been stolen mid-sentence.

“You’ll find I have every right. I am the one who controls life and death. Not your father, Castiel. And while he may favor your insolence, you will find I am not as tolerant. I am much older and wiser than he. I am more powerful than you could even begin to imagine. The most powerful of your brothers combined are weak compared to me, and the next time you interrupt me, you will die much like your Savior did. Simply because I feel like it.” 

The voice was almost lazy, but in it Meg could see the people wiped out on his whim, and the people saved just as easily. Entire universe’s still existing because this being, higher than a god, had decided they deserved it. And entire species gone because they had offended him without more than a glance. 

“Now, Tessa, I’d like to ask why you weren’t watching out more carefully for this sort of situation?”

Tessa didn’t speak; there was nothing more than silence stretching out before them.

“You do realize that your ability to cloak yourself without ever faltering is why I assigned you to Meghan, correct? So why didn’t you think to cloak her from any and all supernatural beings?”

More silence.

“You don’t have to like a job to do it. You wanted to stop the scum that is demons, and Meghan is key to that. Yet you couldn’t seem to even do something as simple as protect her. Get out of my sight and pray I don’t decide to end you.” 

A faint whooshing noise was heard, and then nothing but silence for a few long moments.

“I know how you feel about her, Castiel. Considering your feelings, you of all should beings know that she deserves to live again. And she deserves it more than most I have encountered.” 

Still the forever bored tone in his voice, as though he had better things to do than talk to the likes of Castiel. 

“Then why?” Castiel— of course his name was Castiel, how could she forget? — demanded.

Another long, pregnant pause before the lazy reply. “Because she is the key to restoring humanity to all demons.”

“How? Why was I not informed of this?”

“Compared to me, you are a suckling infant. You would do _very_ well to remember that, Castiel. I have no reason to explain anything to a baby who cannot even stand on his own two legs yet and is just beginning to learn to crawl.”

Meg let out a low groan of pain, but even through that pain she knew Castiel had just been told off. 

“Now if you will excuse me, I have to check on Meghan, who wouldn’t be in this state if it were not for you in the first place. Remember that as well.”

The door opened, and a crack of light seeped in as Meg’s eyes fluttered. They just didn’t seem to want to cooperate and stay open for her. 

As he approached her, thousands of names for him flashed through her mind. He was many things to many people, Angel of Death being but one. But he was more than just an Angel. He was everything and nothing. He was space and light and air. He was the true harbinger of life and bringer of Death. 

“Meghan,” he said softly, a voice that seemed weary with age. Yet she could tell he only reserved it for the worthy, and he was for some insane reason deeming her worthy. 

“Do you remember who you are?” he asked.

And no, Meg didn’t remember who she was. Expect… she did remember. Again she felt pain, and she softly cried out from the unexpectedness of it. 

The soft touch of his hand eased the pain slightly, and she tried to think around said pain. She’d been many people, had many faces, and lead so many lives. Yet she wasn’t sure which face had really belonged to her and her alone.

“No,” she croaked as the pain eased up even more with the prolonged touch.

Meg was aware of a presence beside her other than that of the God of Death, and she managed to open her eyes to see Castiel standing there, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. That permanent scowl of his.

He was the same and yet the opposite of the Castiel she’d first met. Where that Castiel was rigid, this one seemed more fluid in his movements, as though he’d finally gotten used to his vessel and was able to move freely. Yet even as a human—and that much Meg knew she was—she could feel the power rolling off him in waves. His grace seemed to be poking and prodding at everything in the room, and where once it had been painful, now it was merely a welcome touch. 

“You were a woman once. Meghan was your name, which is why you chose Meg Masters as a vessel, and then decided to keep her name. You were pregnant once, do you remember?” the God of Death asked her softly. 

And Meg could vaguely remember it. But it seemed to be so long ago that she was a woman, in love, and happy. But then came the war that her husband died in, leaving a pregnant Meghan alone. 

Then her pregnancy took a turn for the worst, and the healers told her it would be easier to get rid of the baby. They told her the baby wasn’t going to make it out alive. Meghan refused to believe it. She loved her baby already, and while she’d never shamed women that couldn’t carry to term, this was her choice, dammit. And she was choosing to have her baby.

Every night she prayed, begging the Gods to help. Every day she found that there was no help to be found. 

Not from the gods she prayed to at least. 

But there were whispers of new gods. Black-eyed ones who were more than fair. Your soul for anything you wanted, and a soul for a soul sounded awfully reasonable. So Meg went to the crossroads and waited, her breath heaving in the cool night air.

At the time Meg didn’t know it was Crowley who struck the bargain, but she would find out soon enough. He offered her one short year with her child, and then she would be dragged to hell by the hounds.

“Will it hurt?” she asked softly, such a naive young thing. 

Crowley laughed loudly. “You’ll be dying, of course it will hurt! But since you are willing to come in six months, I’ll sweeten the deal. Your son will live until his thirties, watched by someone to ensure he doesn’t die.”

“And after that?” she’d asked.

Crowley shrugged. “After that, he is on his own like most humans. He may not live a day after that, or he may live to a ripe old age. But you are guaranteed that he will live thirty years; thirty years he would never have had otherwise. Isn’t that enough?”

Meg stood there a moment, hands rubbing her stomach lightly. “He will be healthy? Whatever ails him… It will be gone?”

“The moment we kiss to seal the deal. Whatever ails him will be gone, and he will be a perfectly healthy baby.”

Of course Meg had agreed, and her son had been more than worth it. She still didn’t regret it, even after being on the rack for all those years. In the end her child had gone down in history as a fierce warrior with a noble heart. That was all that truly mattered in the end.

“She is in pain. Let me heal her,” Castiel ordered with arrogance.

“She isn’t hurt, Castiel. There are no physical wounds. Her human mind has to adjust to remembering her past lives. Soon she will be able to tap into her telekinetic abilities naturally. Would you hinder her progress for a wound that doesn’t exist?”

More silence on Castiel’s end. It seemed the little tree topper was making all the wrong moves with Death. Of course Castiel’s ability to think he was more important than he was tended to piss a lot of people off. Meg still wasn’t sure how she managed to be the one best suited to deal with him. 

There was a mumbled no, and the sound of Castiel shifting his weight from foot to foot. Meg closed her eyes and drifted off into what was almost sleep, where memories of different faces that were and weren’t hers plagued her. She came to a few times, looking over to see Castiel perched in the chair watching her, just as she had done for him not so long ago. She’d open her mouth to say something, anything, but then the heavy weight of her memories would drag her asunder again. 

When Meg woke for the last time, she knew exactly who she was and who she’d been, and now she understood why the hell she wanted the blonde hair so badly. It all seemed to click into place, and she slowly sat up, finally realizing she was in a bed in someone’s house, and it sure as hell wasn’t hers.

Castiel was sitting in the chair next to her bed, and the scene was very familiar, just inverted. She remembered being in his place, watching over him while the Winchesters hunted the big bad things, leaving the two of them behind. 

“How long was I out?” she asked him, her voice a bit rough and raspy from lack of water. 

She’d never cared about any of this as a demon, and it’d been so much easier than to have to remember to drink or water or suffer consequences. Humanity sucked.

“A few days. You’re very weak, and I was told your body may not be able to handle being healed. So I have food.”

He just sat there after that, as though she was going to get up and get it herself. Such an oblivious little tree topper.

“Get me the food, Clarence. And why the hell wouldn’t a human be able to stand being healed by an angel?”

Castiel turned and grabbed the Styrofoam box and cup, setting the food on her lap and the cup on the night stand. The box had fries, a burger, garlic toast, and chicken strips in it. It was obvious Castiel bought it, unsure of how much a weak human should eat, so he piled it with everything he remembered her liking.

She munched on the fries, but her mouth was too dry to manage to eat anything yet, and she had to take a huge gulp of her drink, coughing weakly. 

Castiel was up in a flash, rubbing her back and ready to go ahead and use his grace to fix anything that may have gone wrong. His presence was so comforting, which wasn’t something she’d ever noticed before. But then angels were supposed to be comforting to humans and not to demons. 

“I’m fine, Clarence. Just a dry throat is all. Could ya have gotten a bigger soda?” she teased.

He shrugged easily, recognizing the teasing and having no issue with it. He sat back down as she continued eating, nibbling on bits of everything, enjoying the taste of real food for what seemed to be the first time in a long time. 

“How did I not die from being out that long?” she asked through a mouthful of burger.

“I kept you hydrated,” he stated simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Of course to him it probably was. Meg nodded, pushing her hair behind her ear, feeling far more comfortable with the blonde hair. She felt like it showed whom she’d been as well as who she currently was.

“The Horseman says you are to spend the day resting,” Castiel remarked bitterly.

“That must suck. Having to obey a creature more powerful than you when you’re so used to taking on everything. Yet the Harbinger of Death could crush you and all your brothers with a snap of his fingers,” Meg stated boldly, sucking the salt off her fingers and just enjoying the taste for once.

Castiel scowled, not liking to be reminded of his own mortality. Angels could live forever if it weren’t for The Reaper. At any moment he could finish them, just as Meg had said. It was hard to keep that in mind though when the man was hiding something as important as what had happened to Meg. This wasn’t a game to Castiel, but to Death everything seemed to just come and go with his whims, as though he had no respect for life itself. 

“He respects it more than you think,” Meg said softly, knowing where Castiel’s mind was going at the moment.

“I very much doubt that,” Castiel said abruptly.

“You weren’t there when he brought me back. He treated me like I was the most important thing in the universe. In all of creation, actually. He really knows how to make a girl feel special, Clarence,” she quipped.

“I myself am well aware of how to do that,” Castiel said, sounding affronted. 

“Why are you still here?” she asked suddenly.

Castiel’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I am here to make sure you are well rested today,” he said slowly, as though maybe she hadn’t quite understood what was happening. 

“Yes, Clarence. I heard that part the first time. But why? I’m human, what can I possibly offer you?” she asked, shoving fries in her mouth.

“You are the key to curing all demons, Meg,” he said simply. 

She arched a brow. “So this is about what you can gain from me then, right?”

Castiel furrowed his brows in confusion, trying to understand why her tone sounded so awful in comparison to before.

“This is about us saving the world together,” he said after a moment of thought. 

“And how the hell,” she stopped talking for a moment to take a sip of her soda as her mouth went dry again, “Am I supposed to save anything? I’m human, Clarence. One bullet, and I’m gone. I don’t have protection anymore,” she said sarcastically, feeling very much as though she was explaining this to a child.

“You have me,” he stated with a pleased look, like he knew he’d given the perfect answer.

Meg’s human heart clenched at this, and she tried her best to ignore it. It was hard to forget the days spent lying in the grass, staring up at the sky as he explained her beauty to her. It was equally hard to ignore the days she spent in the rec room, watching patients while Castiel painted her portrait on a canvas, a pleased smile on his face every time she praised his art.

But then she’d died for him. She had literally given her life for him because she believed he could save them all. Even if it meant sending every demon, herself included, back to hell. Whatever it took. In the end they’d both been on the same side.

“Nice to know, Clarence. Besides having my little tree topper, what else do I got that works in my favor?”

She was proud when her voice managed to not crack with emotion.

Castiel’s brow furrowed again—boy did he love that action— before he said, “Your powers, Meg. You never lost your powers. You could still kill me with them if you so desired,” he stated.

Meg raised a brow, her eyes then flicking around the bedroom, settling on the remote, and then it was rocketing through the room to come to rest in her hand. 

“You never stopped having your powers, you were just temporarily unable to access them,” he explained while she turned the remote over, enjoying the feel of the cool metal in her hand.

“So what am I suppose to do? Heal or kill? You’re not being too clear on that part, Clarence.”

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admitted, and Meg couldn’t stop the grin that graced her face.


	4. Chapter 4

While Meg brushed out her hair hurriedly, Clarence was in the other room, probably staring at the television. She was slightly apprehensive about what they were going to do. Well, she didn’t actually know what they were going to do, at the moment. They were meeting up with the Winchesters to form a plan, and then they’d all go their own ways to accomplish their end of said mission. 

What she did know was that a demon could gain their humanity back themselves through something as simple as love. And all demons were capable of love, no matter what the Winchester boys thought. She herself had loved Azazel as a father very much. So while the love might be familial, it would be enough to kick-start their conscience. In the end, that had been more than enough for her. 

She pinned her hair up, remembering how she’d loved the shorter hair in her former meatsuit. But long hair just seemed to suit her in this one. She again wondered what happened to the young girl whose body she’d inhabited, but now was not the time to dwell. They had to travel without attracting any angels or demons, so both of their powers were out of the question. They’d be taking a completely human car. 

“You ready to go, Clarence?” she called.

She assumed he was nodding his head and not saying anything. He had a bad habit of doing that.

“Going to leave without even waiting to say goodbye to me? I’m hurt, truly,” came the Grim Reaper’s voice.

Meg smiled. “I couldn’t wait to be rid of ya. It’s a little unnerving being human around you now, ya know,” she said as she turned, a smile on her face. 

He tapped his cane lightly. “Do be careful. I don’t want to fight off all of heaven to have to bring you back again.”

“Is this your way of saying you care? I’m touched,” she responded with a grin. 

“Are you sure you don’t want Tessa to go with?”

Sentimental bastard.

“No, it’ll draw too much attention. If it was just her or just Cas, that’d be one thing. But having both of them with is like having a beacon saying, ‘Come look at what we’re doing.’ I’d rather not get caught if I could avoid it.”

He nodded and stepped away from the door, allowing Meg to pass. She knew in his own way he would miss her. Not that he couldn’t pretty much watch over her, but he liked having her around. Who else would play checkers with him and eat deep dish pizza? Tessa just didn’t have a taste for the finer things in life like she did.

“Got my stuff, Clarence?” she asked. 

He was very much entranced by the television, watching what appeared to be… a porno? 

“Seriously, Castiel? You watch those in private,” she grumbled and cut the power.

Castiel looked like a scolded child. “I wished to know what happened to the babysitter,” he informed her.

“She got laid, Cas. Now are my bags in the car?” she asked again.

He stood up gracefully and nodded. She was constantly amazed by how tall he was compared to her. It was just too much. It never felt like there was a height gap back when she was a demon. But a lot of things were different compared to how she felt back then. Namely, how she felt about her granddaughter. She was still trying to work her way through those feelings, and the Grim Reaper seemed full of ideas on that one.

“Tessa won’t be coming,” Castiel said sharply, correctly guessing that she was thinking of her granddaughter. 

“Good for her,” Meg said with a roll of her eyes, brushing past the two celestial beings quickly.

She didn’t like being upset in front of them. It felt awkward. Being upset in general felt awkward. But finding out that her granddaughter hated her had been an awful experience. The girl blamed her for her father’s over zealous attitude of war, which was complete bullshit. Meg had wanted her son to be a noble man. A peaceful, noble man. He turned out to be the best warrior anyone had ever seen, and Tessa was one of his two daughters. 

Why Tessa was contacted by the Grim Reaper to become one of his Reapers was beyond Meg, but Tessa had been. And apparently when she’d found out who Meg was, Tessa formed a grudge against her for no reason other than that she could. It was utterly ridiculous, and a bit childish of Tessa. But grandkids were supposed to be childish, so Tessa had that part down pat.

Meg half expected to see Tessa standing before her suddenly, wishing her luck or something on what was surely a suicide mission. But no such luck. Clarence came out to the car, handing her the keys and climbing into the back next to the stuff until Meg informed him that he only sat in the back if someone else was in the passenger seat. Or if he was in the Impala because only Sam rode shotgun in that vehicle.

Castiel nodded and was suddenly seated up front, startling Meg so she smacked him. And thus started their journey across three states to meet up with the idiot Winchesters. The ones she died for. She wasn’t excited about seeing Dean, but Sam wasn’t too bad. He understood her in his own way, and he might even be glad she was alive. 

Of course after all she’d done to Deano, she couldn’t expect him to be happy to see her. There was Pastor Jim, among others, lying in a grave because of her. And the Harvelles had been blown up so thoroughly that there were no pieces of them left to bury. So sure, she’d done a few not so great things over the years, but she’d been a demon. What could you expect from a demon?

“You seem agitated,” Castiel observed.

“The Winchesters always agitate me,” she responded.

Castiel nodded. “They can be annoying. Especially Dean Winchester. Sam is much more subdued,” he explained.

“That’s the truth if I’ve ever heard it, Clarence. I thought Dean was your special buddy?” she asked with a glance towards him as they hit the interstate. 

“If by special buddy you mean I pulled him from hell, then yes, he is my special buddy. If you mean sexual relations, then no, he is Sam’s special buddy in that instance.”

Meg nearly swerved into another car. 

“When the fuck did this happen?” she asked in dismay. Castiel merely shrugged and went back to looking out his window.

“Well, I sure as hell missed out on collecting on a jackpot. Always knew they’d do it,” she said more to herself, and Castiel had the grace to not respond.

She cranked up the music, rolled down the windows, and for the next hundred miles they traveled like two losers on a road trip to a concert. But in the end they weren’t, and Meg had human needs that had to be met.

“Did you bring any water?” she asked.

“I wasn’t aware you required water,” he responded.

Meg wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn’t because duh, driving. Instead, she socked at him blindly, happy when her fist collided with some part of him. Not that it would hurt him at all, but it still felt good for her.

“All humans require water, you idiot. Now we have to stop at a convenience store. Just… act human when we get to one,” she grumbled, pulling off the highway.

“I thought I was acting human,” he said in confusion. 

Meg just rolled her eyes. Sometimes she just didn’t get the baby in a trench coat. Like right now. Other times she knew when he looked at her he was very appreciative of her physical looks. But he swung back and forth from complete Angel to slightly humanic Angel, and she never knew which she was going to get. 

She pulled over about ten minutes later at the gas station, ordering Cas to stay in the car unless he sensed danger. Real danger. She slammed the car door and made her way to the back where the coolers were, pulling out some bottles of water to get them through the day’s ride.

“Hey, Dale. Didja hear about Smith and Wesson being on the move?” a gruff male voice asked.

Meg didn’t freeze or even pause to show she was listening to their conversation, she just decided on three big bottles of Smart Water-and how smart was this water? -And then walked over to the beer coolers.

“Nah, I didn’t. They up to any new projects?” the other male who was behind the counter asked after a moment, obviously realizing she wasn’t a threat, just some woman buying water and possibly beer. 

“No one knows. People are talking about some de- some loyalist being… coming back,” the gruff voice said as Meg trailed down the snack aisle.

“Well,” the attendant said, “I never was a fan of the King to be honest.”

Meg grabbed a bag of jerky, knowing staying any longer would raise suspicion. She went to the counter to pay for it, trying to make sure her hand didn’t brush along the demon blade tucked under her jacket. 

“Will that be all for you, miss?”

Meg put on her best smile. “Yes, sir. Just the most important road trip things my boyfriend forgot, so we had to stop.” She gave a small shrug as if to say ‘what are you going to do?’ while she pulled out the debit card she’d been given by the Grim Reaper. Apparently he had his own tricks as well. 

She paid for her stuff without incident, neither of the men looking at her closely enough to realize she was the demon they spoke of in question. But then she was human now, and as long as she didn’t use her powers, no one would bother giving her a second glance. No supernatural entities, at least. 

Meg opened the door to the car, shoving the two bags into Castiel’s arms as she buckled her seat belt.

“So the demons know the Winchesters are on the move, and that I’m back. They don’t know for sure it’s me, they just know it’s a loyalist,” she told him as she turned around and pulled back onto the road, asking him to open one of the bottles of water for her. 

“Yes, I gathered as much as well. It seems they’re hoping the loyalist will take over. Crowley is making many people uneasy.”

Meg took a big gulp of water as they hit the stop light, enjoying how refreshing it felt. “And I could,” she responded without thinking. 

“You’re human now,” Castiel said slowly, as though he thought she might have forgotten.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. “Yes, Clarence, I know that. But I still have my powers, and with practice I could be good at dodging and stabbing again. I could put the fear in them, make them follow me, and then use that sense of family to begin curing them.”

Castiel was quiet for a moment before he said, “I think they were referring to Abaddon.”

Meg almost slammed on the brake. “First the Winchesters are into incest, now Abaddon is back, and no one even thought to tell me?” she screeched. 

Castiel didn’t flinch, but he did lower his head as if in shame. Meg knew he was just mimicking humans, so she hit him for it. Several times. 

“I should squish out your eyeballs, you son of a bitch. What else is going on? What else didn’t you tell me before dragging me on some goddamned suicide mission for you?” she demanded. 

“You and Abaddon were friends,” he said weakly. 

“Yeah, how many centuries ago? Then she turned her back on me, and ended up in pieces and a lot of other shit. We haven’t talked in a very long time, Cas!” she smacked him again.

“The Winchesters were afraid-”

“Oh, are you fucking the Winchesters now? So everything they say matters? Is that what this is? Because the Winchesters left you in the care of a demon and gladly let said demon die for them!” she screeched.

“You came back,” he pointed out weakly.

“Oh, you sonofabitch!” Meg waved her hand and felt satisfied as she used her powers to break his neck. 

Of course he healed himself right away, but it felt good nonetheless to do it. He deserved it.

There was a pause before he attempted to redeem himself. “You knew her much longer. I thought maybe you’d be happier with an old friend. So I was afraid to tell you.”

“If you thought that, then you don’t trust me. She and I were never actually friends. We were allies for a time. But her only family was Cain. She loved him, desperately and obsessively, and in the end it was her downfall. Is Cain in the picture now too?”

“No, he is not. He is still in hiding, attempting to stay away from everyone. The last time he ventured among humanity was long ago.”

“And I bet he killed half the village he went into,” she responded, calming herself back down, but part of her wanted to snap his neck again, just for kicks.

“He left only the children,” Castiel responded.

Meg ran a hand over her face, trying to take in the fact that Abbie dearest was back. She was insanely powerful and definitely not one to fuck with. The only way to stop her would be to get the First Blade. But to wield it one needed the mark, and that was not something Meg wanted to even consider doing.

“So keep Cain hidden. For now. We don’t want that First Blade getting into the wrong hands. We need to get rid of Crowley, and soon,” she told him.

“I agree, he does end up ruining many of our best laid plans,” he said and bit into a piece of jerky, making a weird face.

“So why haven’t you just smote him?” she asked and grabbed the bag from him. Human food wasn’t for angel boy.

“Because he might still be of use. His people will need someone to rally around.”

Meg sighed. “You are the dumbest Angel ever. Sam was meant to be the one they rallied around. So put him in there, they will follow him. Put me in there, they will follow me. Although now that Abaddon is back, she’s going to try and take over. In order to do that, she will need to make a big show of power, which will end up with a lot of people dead. Or… did you not consider that lives hung in the balance here, Cas?”

“You’ve changed,” he said slowly.

Meg hit the steering wheel in frustration. “Of course I have, Clarence! I’m human now, which means my emotions run deeper than they did when I was a demon. And besides, no one, not even demons, want to die. These people will be tortured just so both sides can say they’re the best at it. It’s a scare tactic that demons use a lot. Normally they use it on the other party, but I doubt Abaddon has been able to get her hands on Crowley. So we basically need to eliminate them. Both. And fast.”

Castiel sat there, lost in thought, his angelic brain probably trying to form a plot. But if there was any plotting going on, it would be her and the Winchester boys. Castiel was great at follow through though, thankfully. 

They didn’t say much more as the journey wore on, and they passed from one state to the next. 

“Does the human you feel differently about me than the demon you did?” Castiel asked hours later. 

Meg tensed slightly. To be honest that wasn’t something she tried to allow herself to think of. She knew how she’d felt about Castiel previously, and for a demon it’d been pretty damn intense. But as a human her emotions were deeper, and she was willing to bet that the irrational anger she felt towards him wasn’t anything to do with just him being stupid. It was probably to mask her own feelings for him.

Not that she would say that to his face. He didn’t need to know that, so she shrugged and said, “Not really.”

Castiel regarded her for a moment, his eyes squinted up in that way he had, before he nodded.

Still, he kept his eyes trained on her, as though he were reading deeper into her soul. She didn’t like it, so she turned up the music to drown him out. His silence was deafening. 

She drove on, even when her eyelids began to feel heavy. It was only about another hour until she got to wherever they were meeting up. Hopefully it would have a bed.

She used to be able to not sleep at all for weeks on end and barely notice it, but humans were way too fragile for her taste. Meg definitely preferred that aspect of being a demon. 

“Should I drive?” Castiel asked, his eyes still on her, that creeper. 

Meg checked the GPS, and it said they had half an hour to go now. She shook her head.

“Are you sure?” he persisted.

“We’re almost there, Cas. Just keep talking if you’re so worried about me falling asleep at the wheel,” she grumbled at him, pushing a gold lock behind her ear. 

She could barely see him nod out of the corner of her eye, his face turning away from her for the first time in half an hour. He was the ultimate creeper.

“You look stunning,” he stated, as though he were talking about the view of the Grand Canyon or some other such National Treasure. The reverence in his voice was so loud and clear, it made the human that she was want to scream why? Why do you look at me like I am the most beautiful thing on this Earth, when you of all creatures have seen the true beauty. I cannot measure up to that!

“Of course I do, Clarence,” she mumbled, her voice cracking, unsure of what else to say. Because what she wanted to say wasn’t very appreciative.

She was glad he found her beautiful. She still found him overpoweringly amazing. His grace was even more amazing to her now that before, probably because it would heal rather than kill her, something she’d never been sure of before. Not that there wasn’t something back then, but natural instincts and all that.

“You remind me of the women from the Amazon rain forest,” he said smugly.

“How is that?” she asked, rubbing at one of her eyes to try and stay awake. She just had a little bit more to go, and then she could pass out.

“Your strength and ability to change,” he said simply.

All of the places Meg had been and hidden, the rainforests of the amazon had not been one, so his answer made little to no sense to her.

“Well, gee, thanks, Clarence. If I understood that reference it might even make me teary eyed,” she smirked. 

Castiel shrugged, his eyes glued to her, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“Still haven’t learned etiquette yet, I see.”

Castiel shrugged. “Nurse Meg never seemed to care about that as much as the Winchesters did.”

Meg gave a chuckle. He was right. She’d been very lenient on him. He’d been almost like a child, in a way. And that was how she’d grown to love him. He would lead her outside sometimes to show her flowers. He'd tell her about the wars he fought while he tucked flowers into the hair of anyone passing by. He’d also been big on the night sky, and he would recite all the constellations to her, explaining their history as he did so. It was comforting, and she’d felt at ease with him in those moments.

There had also been the incident of the demon that found them. She’d been scared. Sure, Meg was a powerful demon, but she was supposed to be protecting Castiel, not the humans this asshole was going after for sport.

So she’d tried to take Cas and run, but Clarence wasn’t going anywhere. He ganked the sonuvabitch from about twenty yards and then played the part of a hysterical patient perfectly.

When they’d asked what happened, Castiel told them Meg knocked the man out, trying to save Mr. Nile, but she was too late. The hospital had commended her for her willingness to protect the patients at whatever the cost. And if the weirdo patient Castiel was a little more attached to Meg after that, they all chalked it up to him being ill and associating her with protection. Funny how it was the other way around.

Fifteen minutes left of the drive. Almost there.

“Remember the crazy cat lady?” he asked with a mischievous smile, looking more human than angel at the moment.

Meg’s heart clenched. “Yeah,” her voice broke. “Yeah, I do. She was so in love with you.”

“I kept telling her it was pointless,” Cas said mournfully.

“Why was it pointless, Clarence?” she asked in an almost dismissive way, not wanting to show she cared. She didn’t. She couldn’t.

“Celestial beings cannot be tamed by humans,” he said with a shrug, and Meg ignored the drop of her heart. She pretended she didn’t feel very much like she’d just been punched in the gut. It was silly of her to think he would be interested in her now that she was a human. 

“Except for you,” he said suddenly, and Meg had to admit she was thrown by that one, but she didn’t dare hope.

And what the hell was this hope? She’d never had any use for it previously, and she wasn’t fond of it so far.

“Me?” she asked, the clock ticking down.

“You,” he replied as his grace hummed in a contented way.

“Why me?” she blurted out. Ten minutes.

“Because you’re my caretaker, with all that thorny beauty. You’ll never be just a human. Not really. You have powers humans could only assign to their superheros, but you’d never take that role. You’re… Meg. Your own category,” he said happily, as though he’d found the secret to the universe.

Meg couldn’t help the smile that graced her face. She felt like a smiling idiot, but how could she not? Her Angel boy thought she was special.

The rest of the ride was in silence, and when they pulled up they were outside a bunker that was covered with graffiti. So incognito. Meg rolled her eyes. The sigils stood out, and Meg grabbed one of the bags while Castiel carried the brunt of them to the door of the bunker. 

She rang the button, standing there, waiting. Wondering idly how they’d react to seeing her. They knew she was coming, but they couldn’t possibly liked it. 

Sam answered the door, taking in the sight of her and smiling before giving her a bone crushing hug, which was pretty surprising. Getting laid was obviously working for him. Or being responsible for one less death. That was actually probably what it was, now that she thought about it.

“Come on,” he beckoned, leaving the door for Castiel to close behind him. 

“Dean went out to grab some more food, now that you’ll actually need it,” Sam said easily, as though it was every day a demon ally of theirs became human. 

“Hopefully he remembers to get more than just pie and beer,” she joked.

Sam gave a fat laugh. “Actually, he’s cut back on the drinking,” he told her.

Before she could help it, the words were spilling out. “Seems like the incest thing is really working for him.”

Sam bitchfaced so hard she thought for a minute it would stay like that permanently. 

“No worries, big boy. I was a demon, remember? Nothing really bugs me. Besides, who didn’t see it coming a mile away? He’s always been your real unicorn. The other one was just… a stag with spray paint on it,” she informed him, drawing a very small smile. 

“Let me take you to your room, Meg. You look beat,” he said as he guided her through the maze that was their house.

She was so tired she couldn’t really be as impressed as she’d like to have been. Kitchen, big, was one of her more coherent thoughts. When Sam brought her to her room, she was asleep in her bed before her clothes were even off, her body screaming for rest after having its limits tested. 

Maybe it was a short time later when Dean’s voice flowed through the open door. 

“Are you fucking serious? He can’t really get in, can he?” he sounded a lot more annoyed than he would if it were Castiel, but Meg was still tired.

“You’ll find that as one of the Four-and by far the most powerful of the Four-I can go pretty much anywhere I would like to, Dean. And I would like to check on Meghan. She wore herself out. Her body is still getting used to the new restrictions that it has.”

There was a loud huff and the sound of a fist slamming the counter. 

“I’m putting up with enough of this shit as it is. I think I deserve a better explanation than the one you’ve given me. Besides, she’ll get used to being human just like anyone else would,” Dean growled. 

How sweet of him to care. 

There was a moment of silence, and the vibe in the bunker turned ominous. “Have you forgotten whom you are speaking to? I brought her back for a reason, just as I allow you to live for a reason. Step out of line, and you may just find yourself ceasing to exist far more permanently,” he threatened.

 

And suddenly it was quiet. No one said anything, and Meg wondered where Sam was. Probably asleep, or depending on the time he might be out for a run. 

“You wouldn’t,” Dean said, his voice going for threatening, but it came out a lot more scared sounding than he intended. 

“Oh, but, Dean, I would. I can do whatever I like. You seem to forget that. And right now what I would like is to fix your god’s mess. Meghan is instrumental in helping with that because she was a human long before she died.”

Meg blinked in confusion. No, she’d been a demon. She was sure of it. But the more she thought of it, the more she realized she’d not smoked out in a long time, and she had to have an angel help bandage her wounds, which was weird in and of itself. 

“You mean… You mean we left a human to die, back there?” Dean asked, his voice sounding odd.

“Yes, Dean, you did. You left a human who’d cured herself of her own demonic possession to be killed so you could live. You served someone else on a platter to die for you. But then, isn’t that what you always do?”

Dean’s standard sonofabitch, could be heard loudly, and he was shushed by… maybe it was Castiel?

“Do not wake her. She doesn’t need your issues on top of her own.” 

Yes, it was definitely Castiel being all protective of her. It was actually a little cute.

“Did you know?” Dean demanded of Castiel.

“Why else would I keep her outside instead of allowing her to join the fight when her skills were essential?” 

Angel boy always managed to sound so confused.

“Maybe because you’re in love with her?” Dean sneered.

“And you’re in love with Sam. I’m not sure how that’s relevant. You don’t hold him back, now do you?”

Dean said nothing, but Meg imagined he was glaring his twisted little heart out at Clarence right now.

“So everyone is in love with someone. That’s great. Adorable even. But I’m not here to find out Sam is fucking Dean. I’m here to check on Meghan. So either you point me to her room, or I destroy half the place finding it,” the Grim Reaper said coolly.

You had to admit, he had a lot of style. More than the bros here did.

Meg closed her eyes, hoping to pretend to wake up when he made it to her room, but she must have fallen asleep again because when her eyes finally opened there was light filtering into her room and an Angel sitting in the chair next to her bed.

“I’ve been told women like breakfast in bed. I made you eggs,” he almost whispered before handing her a plate that definitely had eggs on it. Scotch eggs, scrambled eggs, poached eggs… it was a lot amusing and a bit cute.

“I’m going to need something to wash this all down with, Clarence,” she half joked, her throat feeling rather raw.

He gestured to the nightstand where there was a tall cup of orange juice sitting. 

Meg ate a bit of everything. There was too much on the plate to eat it all, but that didn’t stop her from trying. It all tasted amazing.

“Who cooked this,” she asked while chewing, not one to really give a fuck about manners.

“I did,” Castiel said proudly.

Meg could feel his grace project outward, and she was surprised she didn’t see his wings extend as well. The smug bastard.

“Didn’t know you could cook,” she said around another mouthful of food.

“I watched Gordon Ramsay’s shows,” Castiel said by way of explanation. 

Meg rolled her eyes. He would use cooking competitions to learn how to cook.

“Sam is going to contact Lucifer, or we’re going to use Sam to contact Lucifer, and find out what he can tell us about Abaddon,” Castiel said suddenly.

Meg choked on her food.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean found out about Sam and Castiel’s harebrained scheme to contact Lucifer about the same time as Meg did, and he wasn’t taking it well at all; by not well, he was stomping around the bunker, breaking plates, and for some reason blaming everything on Meg, as though she was somehow in control of anything. 

So she hid away in Sam’s room because it was the only one with a television. Sure, it was a dinosaur one, but it still got the Food Network, and Meg was watching the MasterChef show, thinking how funny it was that Castiel used this as his point of reference to be able to cook. 

Some episodes into her binge watching, Sam entered the room with two containers of food and two sodas. Meg’s stomach rumbled in response to the food, and she realized it was well past her time to eat. Funny how something so simple was so hard to remember to do. 

As a demon, eating, while nice, was definitely not essential. Of course she had to eat every now and again, just in case she needed to temporarily smoke out of the meatsuit. She didn’t want the person to die if she wasn’t done with them. 

Of course she’d left a lot of women, and some men, to die of starvation. She was sure it was an awful way to die, but even know she couldn’t bring herself to care too much. She did care a bit more than before, but the past couldn’t be undone or changed unless you were a Timelord, and in all of her life she was certain that was just a show. Pity, it would have been fun to travel with the Doctor.

“I brought food,” Sam stated rather obviously.  
Meg nodded and scooted over on the bed. “Ever watched Doctor Who?” she asked.

Sam shook his head. “An episode or two, but I’ve never been able to actually access the show every week. It looks good though,” he said while passing her one of the containers and soda bottles. 

Meg opened the container and started eating. It was a pretty healthy meal, some vegetarian eggplant Parmesan thing, but it wasn’t bad. Besides, Sam was big on eating healthy, a trait she knew he’d picked up from Jessica. 

“So isn’t it a bit… dangerous? Contacting Lucifer, I mean? Even I’m not that bold, and I was a loyalist. Was being the keyword,” she stressed.

Sam chewed thoughtfully for a moment while flipping through channels. Meg almost thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he did.

“So was jumping into the cage with Lucifer, but I did that. Just like you took on Crowley. He and Abaddon will destroy this world with their war, and I refuse to allow that to happen,” he said slowly, as though he was thinking over each and every word. 

Meg nodded. “Abbadon is bad news and, well, we already know just how bad Crowley is. Not that I can talk. I was one of the best torturers in hell. Not at first. At first I refused. I mean, what is the pain of knives cutting into you when you’ve experienced childbirth? But eventually it becomes too much. It wasn’t the physical pain that broke me though.”

Sam regarded her and motioned for her to continue with his hand, his mouth full of food. 

“Azazel was really big on mental torture for those he couldn’t get to break. He was put in charge of me. I had to watch my child die a thousand times over in a thousand different ways. It fucks you up, probably more than you can imagine since you never had a child.”

Meg shrugged as though it was no big deal, pushing away the memories as they tried to fight to the surface.

Sam watched her, the remote lying forgotten on the bed. She knew what he was thinking; that he’d never truly seen her before, and he hadn’t. Not really. He’d always seen demon Meg. Never Meghan, the Welsh woman, wife to an amazing warrior, mother of an awesome child. One that would grow up to become something else. 

“I didn’t know that,” he said simply, not specifying which part.

She shrugged again. 

“Well, at least it isn’t your boyfriend having to speak to Lucifer,” he said with a sideways glance.

“If this is an interrogation, you suck at it,” she informed him and grabbed the remote that was not currently in use.

Sam was the one to shrug this time. “Cas is my friend,” he explained.

Meg couldn’t help the snort. “Yeah, a friend who dragged you out of hell without your soul, half the time threatens to kill you, and the other half beats your brother. You realize he treats me better than the two of you, right?”

Sam opened his mouth as though to respond and then paused. She could practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he processed what she’d said. 

“Why were you so special?”

His question wasn’t rude, he simply sounded curious. Like maybe there was more he hadn’t seen of her before, and he was just now becoming aware of it. He was treating her like a human, which was nice.

Of course, granted, she was one now, but the point still remained. 

Meg took a long sip of soda before answering. “We’re celestial beings. Or I was. Still, no human can understand what that’s like. You potentially can live forever, and you can crush almost any being that gets in your way. To us a soul is… weird. It’s necessary for your survival, but not ours. We don’t have one. Or I didn’t,” she corrected.

Sam sat there, apparently waiting for further explanation. Fucking college boy.

“We both did things in the name of being warriors. We both were highly respected among our own circles. We both would probably have killed each other in a fight, a complete draw. You’d never stand that sort of chance against one of us. You’re a good person, Sam. That’s non-negotiable. But you’re so human and frail. Even now, I have my powers. You stopped using yours and blocked it all off because of your brother. How was it ever really a contest whom he’d choose? Besides… you left him. Without a backwards glance. It was me that stayed with him,” she reminded Sam.

He nodded slowly like he was accepting what she was saying, but you could never be too sure. He wasn’t bitchfacing though, so that was a positive sign.

“I guess it’s always been about what we could gain from him,” Sam admitted.

“With him and me, it was a mutual give and take. We both could have each other’s backs. He needed me like I needed him. Maybe not at the same time… but when it mattered,” she explained.

Meg wasn’t sure why it was so important he understood, but for some reason it was. She needed him to understand completely why Castiel was so important to her, and why she hoped she was important to him. 

“You need to remember to eat,” was all Sam said.

Meg nodded, figuring that was as good a response as she was going to get on this subject. The fact that he’d been willing to listen at all said a hell of a lot about how open minded he was. 

Then again, he’d overpowered Lucifer once. Speaking of which…

“When are we doing this contacting the former king of hell thing? And how?” she asked with her mouth full of food. She really had bad manners. 

“Probably tonight. Cas is getting things together with Dean. We need to allow him to use my mouth, but not my body. So there’s some magic involved. Normally the person is… well Raphael’s vessel looked brain dead. People don’t deal with angelic possession very well.”

“I wonder…” she started slowly, “if Castiel has the human in his body still?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It would be Jimmy’s body, and I think so. It all comes down to bodily autonomy. So unless his vessel gave express permission to be used even after he passed, Castiel wouldn’t be able to use it.”

Meg nodded. That made sense, in a weird way. Like how people’s organs couldn’t be used after death unless the person had consented prior to dying, and that wasn’t always possible. 

“So what can you do? With your powers?” Sam asked.

Meg shrugged. “I could kill you. I can move objects. Mostly telekinesis, though the ability to heal is something I picked up since I grew fond of certain bodies and wanted to keep them alive.”

Sam nodded. It felt weird to be talking to him when the last time they parted ways he’d left her to die. Of course she’d told him to do that, but the sentiment remained. 

They sat in semi-companionable silence, eating and watching some random show on the television. Meg was lost in her own head, not really aware of what was going on in the stupid show or movie or what have you. 

“We got the goods,” Dean said so suddenly Meg almost spilled her food.

It wasn’t like her to let someone, anyone, get the jump on her. Especially not Dean Winchester, the person who wanted her dead possibly as much as Crowley did. Stupid human senses. 

“Good. I’m ready to do it tonight if you are,” Sam said without looking up. 

Dean scowled. “Yeah, so ready to just sacrifice yourself all the time, Sammy.” Then big brother was stomping down the hallway quite literally. 

Sam sighed and left the room without a word to Meg. Great, so she was basically invisible once again. Still a second class citizen according to the Winchesters. It would never be enough that she’d died to save them. Sure, she’d killed their comrades, but she’d been a demon who believed in her cause. Just like they’d believed in theirs. 

“Oh, you have food,” Castiel said, casually leaning against the door frame.

Was everyone going to be able to sneak up on her now? She really needed to work on that.

“Yeah, Sam brought me some food after I decided to hide from Deano. It’s like he blames me for everything.” She rolled her eyes, trying to give Castiel an amused smile.

“Well, that is ridiculous. He broke the first seal and started the apocalypse. I reminded him of that today. I guess I should put this in the fridge…” he trailed off as he held up a plate of food.

“What’s in there? Wait… you told him that? I thought you two were BFFs?” she questioned.

Castiel nodded. “It’s my understanding that friends are supposed to be honest with each other no matter what, so I was simply honest with him,” Castiel explained while opening the container to show her her the food inside.

“We can share. Sit down and tell me what happened,” she said, patting the bed.

Meg knew she was being greedy. Or maybe it was gluttonous? She’d have to start working out again soon, but for the moment she was enjoying the calm before what would surely be part of a storm.

Castiel did as she asked—okay, ordered really—and sat down next to her on the bed, his body leaning slightly into hers. 

She picked at some of the food from his tray while she asked him to explain what happened. He looked slightly uncomfortable, in that almost constipated look of his that he got, but he was doing a bit better at expressions. They looked a bit more human now. Not so constipated. She decided she would tell him that later.

“Dean was simply complaining about how he felt you were responsible for a lot of bad that happened. He was projecting, and I reminded him that had it not been for his inability to withstand torture, the seal would never have broken in the first place, and all his friends would still be alive.”

Castiel opened his mouth as Meg fed him a bite of her food without thinking twice about it.

“You did that for me?” she asked quietly, stuffing a piece of food from his tray into her mouth to have an excuse to not speak for a moment.

“I merely spoke the truth. You did what you did for the same reasons we did what we did. You thought it was right. But that would never have happened had he not broken the first seal. His father managed to last his entire time in hell without ever hurting another being, and Dean wasn’t there nearly as long. You even beat him by a century, which I also informed him of. He can’t blame everything on you simply because it’s convenient. Even I had a role to play in it all.”

Meg arched a brow. One thing that you couldn’t deny about Castiel was that he tended to be honest. With her at least. Not so much with the brother lovers, but then they were never completely honest with him either. You get what you give and what not, as cliche as that might sound.

“I guess in a way we all helped cause this mess,” she said after a moment of chewing.

Castiel shook his head. “No, that fault lies solely with the angels. They started this, knowing what it would cause and wanting that cause to come about. Then came Dean’s fault in it. Without that, Sam would probably have taken over hell.”

Meg blinked several times, trying to process the information, but she could indeed see it. Him trying to save Deano from hell, using his powers and such. It made sense.

Meg placed the food containers on the night stand and pushed Castiel back onto the bed as she cuddled up next to him. She was partly delighted with how at ease he seemed with it.

“Are you worried that I might go back to Lucifer?” she asked quietly, her eyes closing.

“No,” he said without hesitation. “Lucifer lied to you, and if there is one thing you will not tolerate it is being lied to and used. I know who you are, Meghan, and it is not some pawn for Lucifer to use in a game. Not any longer.”

Castiel’s voice was filled with conviction. A conviction that made a smile form on her lips in spite of her attempts to fight it off.

“Then what am I?” she asked in an amused voice, curious as to what his answer might be. 

“You’re the same as me. A rebel with a cause.”

Meg drifted to sleep with her hands fisted in Castiel’s trench coat and a smile on her lips. 

When Meg awoke, it was to her tree topper’s arms wrapped around her and hushed voices speaking in the room. 

“I know she’s the key. But, how?” Sam asked, trying very hard to not wake her. Which wasn’t easy considering she was a soldier bred to start at the nearest sound. She was always supposed to be ready to kill.

“Perhaps her blood?” Dean suggested, his voice not as low. Meg was certain she heard Sam smacking Dean and shushing him. 

“She can lead them. Meg was always respected, and if she tells them there is a better way… many are still loyal to her, and to Sam. It may become a combined effort. But she herself was able to purify her soul with love. It’s possible,” Castiel said softly but firmly.

“Yeah, but how can we be certain she won’t turn back to Lucifer?” Another smack. “Ow!”

“The same way I overpowered him. Love, Dean. Love. She dreamed about Cas non-stop when she had the wall put up in her mind. Doesn’t that tell you anything?” Sam chided, and without opening her eyes, Meg just knew he was pulling a classic bitchface.

“Fat load it’s going to do her if ‘Clarence’ here,” Dean mocked, “Doesn’t love her back.”

Meg felt her heart plummet, and she felt very, very sick. That was the very thought she’d been pushing away herself for what seemed like an extremely long time. What if Dean was right, the sonuvabitch?

“Human love is fleeting. The type of love Angel’s have is… very permanent compared to yours.”

“That’s not an answer,” Dean pointed out.

“Yes, it is. I saw her true form and never faltered. Why would I now? She may be human, but she is still Meghan. She still experienced everything my Meg did, and she still died to insure I would live. Is that not what love is? The willingness to sacrifice yourself for the other person without a second thought?” Castiel asked harshly, silencing Dean pretty damn effectively.

“It’s just hard to forget the people she murdered,” Dean said quietly after a moment.

“And how many people have we plunged an Angel blade into instead of exorcising, simply because it’s faster? How many demons have we killed, that we now know could have been saved? How many people did you torture in hell?” Sam asked, and the tension in the air was thick.

“My point is, Dean, that you can’t judge her. She saved herself. We didn’t do that. She did. She saved our lives. Yes, she killed your friends. But she paid the ultimate price. She put herself in harms way more than once to make sure we were all safe. She was tortured for a year, and she never once gave them any pertinent information. She’s paid with her own blood. When will that be enough?” Sam’s voice bordered on disgust, and Meg felt like she was intruding on a private moment. She wanted to stretch or give some sign she was awake, but she also wanted to listen to what they had to say about her. 

“I believe that anything else Dean has to say, he can say directly to Meg. Otherwise, he can remember that I do not need him for this mission, and I have no problem locking him in the basement,” Castiel growled.

Meg really wondered what Sam’s face looked like right now, seeing as Dean was his brother lover person. As the quiet extended out, Meg felt the grace rolling off her Angel in waves, threatening in its own way. She imagined it was aimed at Dean, who should be scared if it made her a little nervous.

As the silence stretched out, she found herself drifting back to sleep. Maybe she even fell back into dreamland, a place that still amazed her, when Castiel woke her.

“It’s time,” was all he said as he pulled her into a sitting position and handed her a cup of coffee. 

She drank it deeply, glad that it wasn’t too hot. She wanted to put this off, to refuse to go, anything. But she knew she couldn’t. She’d have to face Sam speaking with Lucifer’s words to them, and there was no way he would pass up the chance to try to drag her back to him.

As she looked at Castiel she knew it would never work. He meant more to her than Lucifer ever did. He didn’t betray her, for one. He also understood her in ways Lucifer never did and never could. He stood up to Death for her, for Christsake. Lucifer believed in sacrificing her kind. Or demon kind, actually. It was still hard to remember she was human. 

“Let’s do it,” she said simply.


	6. Chapter 6

Whatever Meg had been expecting, it certainly was not a dungeon hidden inside the bunker. There were chains hanging off the walls inscribed with sigils to contain all supernatural beings. 

Dean carefully put Sam into these chains, an apologetic look on his face as he did so, but Sam nodded in a way Meg took to be encouraging. 

She took a gulp, resisting the urge to reach over and grasp Castiel’s hand. He was an Angel, and no matter what, he definitely was not her boyfriend. Right?

“Ready?” Dean asked gruffly, his gaze on Castiel who nodded.

Then there were ingredients being lit. Some Meg recognized, some she thought had to be beyond rare. Castiel’s voice echoed throughout the dungeon, chanting in a language so ancient even she had no clue what it was.

But she did know the exact second Lucifer was there, in Sam’s body yet not in it. A smirk that wasn’t like Sam was on his face, and his gaze swept the room. There wasn’t much else he could do. The chains were precautionary, Meg knew. But it still sent a shock of fear up her spine. 

“Well, isn’t this interesting? My brother, my child, and my favorite brother’s vessel all gathered together and calling little old me?” his voice mocked. 

“We need information,” Dean barked.

Meg wanted to smack him. Being an asshole to Lucifer himself was not going to help them at all.

“Why should I help you? What would I get out of it, Dean? Unless you’re planning on letting me out of the cage permanently?”

“You wish,” Dean growled.

The laugh of Lucifer echoed around them. Dean Winchester always was one to play right into the hands of the devils in his life. This one just happened to be the literal devil. 

Meg took a step forward, chin jutting up.

“I’d think simply being allowed into Sam’s mind for a few moments to escape hell would be more than enough of a gift. Of course we can always send you straight back to Michael. You’re the easiest way to get the information we need, but you aren’t the only way, Lucifer,” she growled.

There was silence for a moment, his eyes on hers as though he expected her to back down. While part of her was screaming to do just that, she absolutely refused to show any sign of weakness.

“You’re human,” fell from Sam’s lips eventually.

It wasn’t a question, but a statement demanding confirmation. 

“And?” she asked, barely even noticing as Castiel took a step forward to stand next to her. 

“You’re human… but you aren’t. What a strange new creature you are,” he said, his voice filled with something similar to curiosity. 

Meg stifled a fake yawn, rolling her eyes in the process. But Sam’s—no, Lucifer’s—eyes were now on Castiel, squinting up. Meg wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but she knew Lucifer had a way of seeing into one’s mind. It never had been something she enjoyed having done to her, but archangel’s were the most powerful beings in existence beside their god, and taking Death out of the equation, of course.

“And here’s my little brother, in love with a human who isn’t human. How strange. What would father say?” Lucifer mocked.

Meg felt herself flush at the word love while Dean said, “He’d probably tell you to stop being such a dick.”

Lucifer let out a laugh. “You didn’t bring me here to insult me, did you, Dean? I wonder if you’d scream for me the way you do for little Sammy here.”

Meg put a hand out to stop Dean from charging Lucifer, but she shouldn’t have worried. As long as he was using Sam, Dean would never strike. He merely clenched his jaw along with his fists. 

“So everyone here gets to be in love but you. We get it, Father,” she said sarcastically. “If you want a girl friend, we’ll be more than happy to give you one. How about Abbadon?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. 

Lucifer smirked, and it was almost a sexy look on Sam’s face. The devil really did come to you as a beautiful man.

“Well is that what this is about? You should have just asked, Meg. You know I’d do anything for my child. Including helping to end your misery as a human. Did he tell you?” he asked with a glance to Castiel.

Meg gave a bored sigh. She wasn’t going to play into his damn hands. Not again. 

“He didn’t? You’ll never age, Meg. You’ll forever be stuck in that body at that age. How depressing for you. Unless, of course, you die. I could give you that.”

“All these people hoping for my demise. It’s just pathetic. For such a puny half human, everyone sure seems to be threatened by me. Even Deano here. Funny thing? I don’t give a fuck. I just care about finding Abbie dearest, and either you help, and we trade insults awhile longer, or I send you back to the fucking cage. No second chances. And I’m sure Michael misses ripping into you so much. For an Angel he sure was big on hurting you for all eternity.”

She walked to the bowl with the burning ingredients and reached for the bottle of water, uncapping it and tilting it. Just a fraction more and the fire would be out, and Lucifer would be sent back to his own hell, with his brother determined to get out by killing him. Anything to please his non-existent father.

Lucifer clenched his jaw, and it was so Sam like that she almost laughed. They were both more alike than either would ever realize. 

“You don’t bluff,” he said, another statement.

“Not ever,” she promised.

“You don’t need the First Blade to kill Abbadon. I can destroy her myself, and I would take great pleasure in ridding this beautiful planet of that abomination.”

Meg felt Castiel’s eyes on her, but she didn’t dare glance at him. “See, the thing is, in order to do that, we’d have to let you out of the Cage. Not just a temporary ability to use Sam’s mouth and see with his eyes, but actually allow you out. That’s never happening.”

The silence stretched before them, Lucifer probably trying to figure out a counter argument while Dean fidgeted with his hands, and Castiel stood stoically. 

“You once would have died for me,” he accused her.

“We all make mistakes, Lucifer. You just happened to be my biggest one.”

Dean let out a noise that sounded like a strangled laugh. She needed to remember to hit him later for interrupting her back and forth with Lucifer. It was rather rude of him, to say the least. 

“And Castiel here isn’t? Would he die for you as you would for him? Or will Team Free Will just be another mistake?” he asked snidely.

“I do not foresee a problem with me dying for Meg, should the need arise,” Castiel interjected.

Another clenched jaw on Lucifer’s part. Meg really felt like laughing now.

“So how do we kill Abbie?” Meg asked outright. 

“Give her a dose of your blood. Then bring her here. I can kill her myself with an incantation. But your blood is key. Without it? She lives.”

“It’s that simple?” Dean asked with a sigh.

“Do you really think I’d allow a demon to be created that I couldn’t easily kill?” Lucifer scoffed.

Meg stared him down a moment, sensing a crack in his visage. "What's the other way?"

"What," Lucifer said, not asked. It was a bit too high, too sharp, too fast, too everything.

"You are hiding something, brother," Castiel accused.

Meg sighed. "I really hate being lied to, and it would be so easy to contact Michael and let him know that you were trying to trick us into freeing you from the cage."

Lucifer went rigid in Sam's body before his face smoothed out and a charming smile appeared. It was one meant to seduce. This was the smile he'd worn on Nick's body, but it hadn't looked this... right. This meant to be. 

"I really did teach you well, didn't I, Meg? The most resourceful of all my children," he praised silkily.

At one point Meg would have died to hear praise like this from Lucifer. But it was empty. There was no true meaning behind it. He was attempting to manipulate her using the face of someone she could someday call a friend.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere. Do you know who I call Dad now?" Meg taunted.

"Who?" he sneered, the act dropped as quickly as he picked it up.

"The Grim Reaper."

Lucifer bit out a laugh. "Well, then you can just call him for the answer!"

“Thanks. Tell Michael we said hi,” Meg said brightly as she doused the small fire.

A loud gasp came from Sam suddenly, and as he blinked she knew it was Sam again. The humanity that was there practically bled from his pores. Why he was Lucifer’s vessel she would never know. He loved too hard to be Lucifer. Obviously the angels upstairs didn’t get that memo.

Dean rushed forward, attending to Sam tenderly as though he’d been beaten. It was almost sickening.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asked from behind her.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that sickening. “Just peachy, Clarence. Sammy here did the real leg work,” she joked.

Castiel furrowed his brow, eyes going to Sam as he tried to process it. It had been a rather bad joke though, so she couldn’t really blame him for not getting it. 

"Time to call Father Dearest," Meg mumbled under her breath.

~~~

“I don’t like him,” Dean hollered at her.

“Do I look like I have any fucks to give over that?” she screamed back.

Dean slammed his fist down on the table, probably intending to scare her. So with a wave of her hand, she broke the damn table into pieces. If this was a game of whose was bigger, she’d always win.

“That was my favorite table!” Dean shouted.

“That was your only table,” Castiel pointed out from the sidelines. 

“Stay out of this!” Dean snapped, his eyes still on Meg.

“Oh, so when it’s Castiel he needs to stay out of this, but earlier Sam was all up in this and that was okay?” she asked snidely.

“Sam isn’t some celestial being that has wings!” Dean said in a voice that suggested he thought he was being clever, but he really sounded stupid. 

“No, he’s just the vessel for Lucifer himself, and he somehow managed to overpower the fucking devil. How come we’ve never talked about him having that kind of power, Deano? Because that sounds dangerous as hell to me!” She was back to screaming now. 

“Oh, and a human who doesn’t age isn’t?” he screamed back, flinging one of the pieces of wood at her. 

She deflected it without thinking, but it wasn’t her that was now holding Dean against the wall, grace rolling off in waves of rage.

“Do. Not. Try. To. Harm. Her,” Castiel growled, slamming Dean into the wall once more before releasing him. 

Dean fell to the floor, and of course Sam ran over to help him up. But Meg felt smug as hell that her boyfriend Angel just got protective over her. It was cute. 

“We all need to stop fighting,” Sam gritted out. “Trying to kill each other,” he gave Dean a pointed glare, “isn’t going to help at all.”

Dean rolled his eyes and tugged away from Sam. He was very obviously pissed off that Sam didn’t side with him completely. 

“We aren’t calling him,” Dean growled.

“Then you can do this on your own and have your own damn funeral. I refuse to die for your arrogant ass again. Ever,” she growled back. 

“I said stop fighting!” Sam yelled.

Deano took an automatic step back, as though everything Sam said was law. She would have to remember that to use against him one day.

“She wants to do something stupid, and all you can say is don’t fight? She wants Death here, in our bunker, again, just to ask him about Abaddon! He’ll kill us all because of her! You- you don’t just fucking summon him like it’s no big deal!” Dean sounded exasperated.

“Correction: he’ll possibly kill you, and maybe Castiel. But Sam and I? He loves us for some reason, so we are safe. All you have to do is leave the bunker if you're so damn scared. You’re a damn fool, Dean Winchester, and you will get us all killed,” she told him calmly. And she fucking meant it.

There was a thoughtful silence for a moment on Sam and Castiel’s part. She knew the two were mulling it over while Dean pouted like a three year old.

“He may not come,” Castiel pointed out.

Meg shrugged. “Then he doesn’t come. We aren’t forcefully summoning him. It’s simply a call. Nothing more.”

“You really think Lucifer was just trying to get us to do a ritual to release him from the cage?” Sam questioned.

“Don’t you?” Meg shot back. “He always lied. The only person he was ever semi-honest with was you. But this is a different game. He’s stuck in that cage with his angry big brother, and they have all eternity to duke it out. He wants out, and he’s trying to find a way. How do we know that what he’s asking us to do won’t allow him to posses Abaddon? Or you? Or even me?”

Sam nodded slowly. “Okay. I-I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I think you’re right, Meg. We should at least try and contact Death to see if he might know, like Lucifer said before you sent him away. He did seem to finally drop the act when you brought up being close to Death.”

Dean shook his head. “Then you three have fun. I’ll be at the bar, not dying,” he grumbled as he walked out of the kitchen and probably out of the bunker. 

“So… let’s do it,” Meg said with a smirk. 

Calling Death was a simple ritual. It was more a plead for him to come to them. Like a text message. Meg wasn’t even sure he’d answer.

“Well, isn’t this interesting?” came the bored voice from behind her, and Meg couldn’t help the smile that graced her face.

The three of them turned around, and indeed Death was there, looking mildly unhappy but thankfully not angry.

“Well? I assume this wasn’t a call to just chit-chat,” he sighed.

"And here I thought ya missed me," Meg teased.

The corner's of the Horsemen's mouth almost twitched. Almost.

“We need to kill Abaddon,” Castiel’s gravely voice said. 

Always to the point, this one was. Meg almost cringed, worried that Death would do something to him that couldn’t be reversed. 

Death’s gaze flickered to Clarence, but then landed on Meg, and she steeled herself. For what, she wasn’t sure, but for something, anything. 

“Funny how the lowest of the Winchester’s doesn’t trust you, yet you were tortured for a year for them. Do they even know what that entailed?” Death asked absently.

Meg could feel Sam’s confused gaze, as though he wanted to ask, but was slightly afraid of the answer. 

“He’s not the one who matters. I can do this. We can do this,” Meg stressed, absently reaching for a Castiel’s hand like she did back in the hospital. His fingers laced with hers easily, just like in Paris when he found her randomly, and they spent the day together before popping into the Winchesters’. 

Death looked at their entwined hands and nodded. “Yes, I know you can, Meg. Why do you think I would grant you immortal life?”

Meg took a half step forward, still holding onto Clarence. “Then tell me, how do we kill her without the First Blade, the Mark of Cain, and dooming one of us?”

He regarded her quietly for a moment, but she could give him that. She could give him hours if it just meant he told them how to do it. 

After a few moments deliberation, he produced a sickle of some sort which he handed to her.

“You will find, when the time comes, that you know how to do it. And it can be only you. I know, Meghan, you want a more complete answer, but some things must be lived to understand. But I promise, when it comes to that moment, you will know, and be able, to kill her with that,” Death told her. "Oh, and do try and text your granddaughter. She may not act it, but she does worry," he said before he was gone without so much as a woosh.

Meg let out a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. Part of her understood what he meant, but the human part wanted to fight for an immediate answer. 

“It seems the slow path is the only path this time,” Castiel spoke after a moment. 

Sam nodded. “Unfortunately. But, Meg, what did he mean?”

Meg lifted her brows as though not quite understanding. “What did he mean about what, Sam?” she asked innocently.

Truth be told, she didn’t want to rehash the year she spent being tortured. It was nothing to a demon. A year passed in the blink of an eye; to a human it was an incredibly long time, and Sam would pull his concerned moose act. She didn’t need that. She’d survived it, and that was really all that mattered.

Castiel squeezed her hand, and it was so human, so natural, that the smile that graced her face felt wonderful. She squeezed back tightly, trying to convey her feelings with a simple squeeze. It had all been for him, and it would always be for him now. 

“About the year you were-”

Castiel cut Sam off. “I really don’t think that’s the important thing to focus on, Sam. We need to form a plan to be prepared so no one dies when going after Abaddon. Call Dean, and figure out how to be prepared.”

Sam looked at the two of them, his gaze flickering back and forth rapidly before nodding slowly. 

“Of course, you’re right, Castiel. I’ll call Dean, and we’ll get the arsenal prepared.”

Sam gave them a last long look before walking away, leaving the two standing there in the kitchen, splinters of wood from the table still scattered around. 

“I don’t know what to do now,” Castiel admitted, and Meg smirked, turning to face him, her hand still holding his tightly.

“Normally it’d be sex. But then I don’t remember the last time I held someone’s hand,” she admitted.

“I’ve never loved before. I didn’t think it was possible for an Angel to love,” he said, his gaze intense.

She swallowed before saying, “And I never thought it was possible for a demon, but here we are,” she told him.

“You were always more than just a demon,” he said as he pulled her closer.

“And you were always more than just an Angel,” she replied.

She wasn’t sure who made the first move, but the kiss was soft and gentle, nowhere near the rough and harsh shit she was used to. His lips were soft, and as Meg raised her hand to his cheek, she felt the slight stubble there.

He lightly bit her bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from her. She was more surprised than anything. 

Images flew across her mind, all images of them together in different places while the Winchester’s were saving the world. It had always been them, since the day they met. It would always be them until the day they died.

Meg flung her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. She could tell he was hesitant, but as her tongue met his, he mimicked her movements, his arms pulling her in even tighter, holding onto her waist as though for dear life. 

Meg had never just kissed another being; at least not that she could remember. But here they were, kissing hard, yet taking it no further. It was kinda beautiful, like Clarence was to her not so long ago.

Of course he was still beautiful. But back then, she’d almost viewed him as she did Lucifer. A God. He rebelled to save mankind, and if he could change, why not her?

She pulled away, asking in a slightly husky voice, “Remember the hospital?”

As she opened her eyes, she saw a smile grace his face.

“Of course. You read to me, every night. I remember waking up, and when I saw you there it was like I’d always known you. You were so gentle. You explained to me where I was, what had happened, and how I had to be careful so the humans in charge wouldn’t know.”

Meg nodded, a smile playing on her face. “You made those paintings of me. I kept those.”

She didn’t need to say they were probably gone now; they both knew. She’d been dead and then brought back. Possessions get lost in those sort of transitions. 

“I found painting to be easier than one might think,” he said firmly.

Meg couldn’t stop laughing. “Maybe because you’re a celestial being who can stop death and bring life? That just might have a little to do with it, Clarence.”

Castiel jerked his head up, seriously contemplating it before nodding. “Yes, that very well could.”

Meg shook her head, laughing not at him, or with him, but laughing all the same. 

It was then that Dean freaking’ Winchester decided to walk into the bunker.

“I guess you two getting cozy means everyone lived,” he half asked, half stated. 

“Even better,” Meg said as she raised her hand and the sickle showed up as though called.

Dean’s eyes widened as he recognized what she was holding up. “Death must really like you. Looks like Castiel here has competition.”

Meg smiled. “Oh, but I have one demand. Because I already figured one thing out. Only the intended can use it, and I’m the intended.”

Dean groaned. “Sonofabitch. What do you want, Meg?”

She grinned devilishly. “I want to personally kill the King of hell.”


	7. Chapter 7

“We toasted last time we thought it was end times. I don’t see why we can’t do the same this time,” Sam agreed. 

“Yeah, didn’t Meg kill our friends?” Dean said in a slightly raised voice.

“Didn’t you torture souls in hell?” she shot back easily.

Dean’s nostrils flared, and he looked away.

“What the hell is it with you two?” Sam asked suddenly. “We could die soon, and all you two want to do is rip into each other. Yes, Dean, as a demon Meg did fucked up shit. But she’s human now, and she saved my life. So if you want to keep bitching, do it somewhere else because I don’t care to hear it.”

Meg whistled, wondering if Sam was going to start in on her too, but he seemed to be letting that go. Dean glared, but said nothing. 

“Thank you. Now either you two agree to stop fighting and actually work together, or I put the both of you in a get-along shirt and lock you in the dungeon for a while.”

Sam was not playing, and there were murmured apologies exchanged, Castiel simply watched everything from where he sat at their new table.

“Ready?” Sam asked Castiel once the apologies were done. 

Castiel nodded, picked up one of the gallons of vodka, and damn did he start guzzling. Apparently it was even harder for Angels to get drunk, and they wanted him at least tipsy. 

It took him just a few moments to drain all the gallons of vodka, and then he just sat there a moment as though waiting. 

“It tastes like Meg’s nail polish remover,” he said finally after a few seconds.

“How would you even know what that tastes like?” Dean asked incredulously. 

To his credit, Angel boy just said with a sigh, “Some things are called inside jokes, Dean. Perhaps you were not the one meant to get it.”

Dean jerked his head back, looking at Sam, who was now roaring with laughter, and even Meg was doubled over in a fit of laughter.

“That’s almost as funny as the flower crown pudding!” she howled, and now Castiel was the one laughing.

When Dean made an attempt to find out what flower crown pudding was though, he never got an answer, just more laughter. He shrugged, giving up eventually to take a shot. 

When the laughter subsided—which took a while because she’d lock eyes with Cas or Sam and be set off again—she straightened up. “Why isn’t there any music playing? This bunker has an intercom system. We got the alcohol, all we need is the swank, now!”

“Swank?” Dean questioned.

Meg paused mid spin. “Wrong era. Oops. Music, Deano. Music.”

With Sam’s help and model Meg’s iPod hooked up, they got some tunes going. Ones that would make Dean’s eyes roll, which was very nice of her since she wasn’t making his ears bleed.

More shots were had, and Castiel was drunk, though thankfully not to the point of a stupor. It would take a lot more to get him to that. But he was just drunk enough to attempt and fail at dancing with her. 

Meg almost felt bad for Sam, dealing with Dean, who wouldn’t dance with him. But then Sam hadn’t looked for her for a year in favor of a chick once, so she stopped being sad for him at all. Karma, right?

“Cas,” she asked as he spun her softly, afraid he’d break her probably. “When did I start believing in karma?” she inquired.

As he dipped her he said, “Human, remember?”

As he brought her back up she nodded. Yes, that was true. She’d believed in that shit before once upon a time. 

“Let me spin you!” she demanded, and for his credit, he did.

“This isn’t how you dance to this music,” Dean said loudly.

Meg shrugged. “Dancing is about fun, Deano! If this is our fun, who cares?” she demanded.

Dean shrugged and took another shot. 

Five shots in and Meg was done for. Being half human was rough. She woke up in her bed with Angel boy curled up around her. She felt surprisingly well, all things considered. She was also damn sure that had something to do with Castiel making sure she felt better, but oh well. 

Getting packed up was pretty easy, and they were on the road in no time. Most of the stuff was carried in her car since the trunk of the Impala housed very little for two people, let alone four. Although, that probably had to do with it housing an arsenal of weapons and therefore leaving very little room for clothes for all of them. 

They probably could’ve just summoned Crowley, but where was the fun in that? Also, Meg was pretty sure he was looking for a demon, namely her, that had recently risen. So letting people see her might actually help with that. 

On the other hand, it could draw out Abbie dearest, but that was a risk she’d have to take. 

But Meg was positive Abbie wanted someone else to take out Crowley. Let Meg do the dirty work, and she’d then take out Meg, asserting her authority. Or so Abaddon thought.

Meg had the sinking feeling that she knew how this would all end. But today wasn’t a day for those thoughts. Today was a day to find and kill Crowley. 

They drove until both cars had to fill up on gas, Castiel casting a glance to find any nearby demons and shaking his head finally. They bought snacks and agreed to drive a bit more. 

It was an hour later, her and Clarence talking and laughing together, that she realized they were being followed. 

“Phone the boys,” she ordered.

Castiel fumbled a minute but managed to do as told.

“What’s up?” Dean’s voice said loudly.

“We’re being tailed. What do you boys want to do?” she asked. 

There was talking in the background before Dean suggested they pull over. 

“I don’t see anyone,” Dean said gruffly.

“They’re following at a distance, Deano. I can sense them. Can’t you, Angel boy?” she asked with a glance to Castiel.

“Faintly, yes. They stopped when we stopped. I think… I think you two should go. We will pretend to have car troubles,” Castiel suggested.

“Yeah, and you two will get killed!” Dean exclaimed.

“Aw, Dean,” Meg said, sugary sweet. “I didn’t know you cared.” Silence. “Look. I don’t think they’re following for you two. If they are, they’ll pass us, putting themselves in the middle. So then we follow them. It’s simple.”

More silence.

“It’s a stupid idea, but fine. Just… call. If something happens. We don’t need you dying a third time or Cas dying a…. Twelfth or whatever.”

Dean hung up and pulled back onto the road, and Meg supposed that was as caring as he got. Not that she was going to complain.

“Okay, I’m going to pop the hood, and you’re going to go ahead and take a look at the engine. I know, you don’t understand what it is, but pretend like you do. Make it look convincing.”

Castiel nodded, trusting her completely with this plan. The part of her into light domination thought that this could lead to a whole new path for them. But as she popped the hood, she reminded herself that those thoughts were for later. Right now, it was time for business.

Castiel got out of the car, losing his signature trench coat and suit coat. He rolled up his sleeves, and at Meg’s instruction got his hands dirty on the engine. Meg leaned against the door of the car, tearing her shirt a bit. Trying to look more like a badass. The short blonde hair made her look a lot different, and they shouldn’t see her as anything but a human. But who knew?

It took about five minutes, but as soon as Meg spotted the car she began twirling her hair and sighing. 

The car pulled over behind them, and a male got out. She could smell the rot rolling off him, and she knew without a doubt that this was a demon in front of her.

“Howdy, y’all. Need any help?” 

The demon’s gaze never left Meg, and she was pretty sure he knew, but she wasn’t going to give them up unless she was sure. 

“Uh, car trouble. I can’t figure out what’s wrong,” Castiel said in a lamely human voice. 

The demon nodded. “Well, I should be able to at least tell you two what’s going on with it. Mind if I...?” he asked while gesturing toward the engine. 

Castiel moved aside, and while he did, Meg took a quick look at the car behind them. It was empty. This was a loner demon. 

‘Ready, Clarence?’ she thought, her eyes on his. He gave a slight nod and then the demon was cuffed, sigils carved into said cuffs to keep him locked up.

“Get him in the backseat, Cas. I’m going to call the boys,” she smirked as she pulled out the phone.

They agreed to meet up in a woodsy area a few miles farther up, just in case they should need to do some torturing. The idea slightly bothered Meg, but this was war and what had to be done had to be done.

The demon was cursing the whole way in her backseat, refusing to shut the hell up for even a moment. Was this what Sam felt like having Lucifer in his brain? It sure as hell wasn’t pleasant. 

When they finally reached the Impala, Meg decided she’d never been so happy to see it in her life. 

Castiel dragged the demon behind them as they followed the shoe marks into the woods and found the Winchester boys with their knives already out. They shoved the demon to his knees and finally the stupid demon went silent.

“Who do you work for?” Dean demanded. 

The demon looked at the ground before saying, “I work for the one true Queen,” resolutely.

“So Abaddon,” Dean said with a sigh.

“NO,” the demon gritted out. “I work for the one true Queen.”

Meg frowned and kneeled on the ground before the demon, tilting his head up. “Tell me, who do you work for.”

The demon looked at through her for the first time. “I work for you, my Queen,” he said with a smile. “I have been searching for you.”

“Sonofabitch,” Dean said from behind her.

“How did you know who I was?” she asked warily.

“The stories are everywhere of the half human, half immortal who was once a demon and brought back by Death himself,” the demon said proudly. 

“So does that mean Crowley and Abbie know about me?” she asked as a boot behind her--probably Dean's, he was also fidgety--crunched on a leaf.

“Abaddon hasn’t made her position clear yet, but Crowley is after you. He calls you…” the demon looked away in disgust, clearly not wanting to tell her just what it was that Crowley called her.

“He calls her what?” Dean demanded impatiently, but he got nothing more than a glare from the demon.

“Dean works with me, so he works with you. So let’s all get caught up to speed at the same time. What does he call me?” Meg asked, careful to not be too gentle.

“He calls you the whore,” the demon said in a rush.

“Well, that means Crowley knows it’s you. But, how?” Dean asked.

“Who else would want him dead as bad as Meg and us? She was modeling for a time, so her face was everywhere. If Crowley saw that…” Sam trailed off. 

Meg stared at the demon in front of her a moment, letting the boys talking. 

“How do I know you aren’t a trap?” she mused aloud.

The demon cocked his head to the side. “You don’t, my Queen. But you will soon find that there are more of us willing to follow you and die for you. So do what you will.”

Meg sighed. “Kill him, Dean. He can’t prove anything, and it could just as easily be a trap.”

Meg stood and walked back to her car, her head held high. This wasn’t an easy decision, but it was one that had to be made. If he could have come up with anything to prove his allegiance to her… but he couldn’t. 

After a few minutes Castiel followed her out, blood splattered on his shirt. “Being a leader means making hard choices,” he said in an attempt to validate her.

She said nothing as Dean and Sam appeared from the woods. Dean looked at the ground for a moment, unable to meet her eyes before speaking.

“For what little it’s worth… I think you made the right call. We have no way to know if he was telling the truth or not. You did the right thing.”

Sam nodded in an attempt to reaffirm this. Meg nodded, a small smile on her face.

“Wow, I really have done something right. Dean Winchester is here for moral support,” she said in a fairly lame attempt at a joke, but it made Dean smile. 

“Yeah, I guess I am. So, Let’s get our heads in the game. If this is true? What do we do?” Dean asked—well more like demanded—and it helped to get everyone thinking. 

“Honestly, I think our first target should be Crowley.” When Meg gave him an odd look, Sam hurried on, “Look, Abaddon wants Crowley dead, right? So we kill Crowley, that will bring her out of hiding. Because in order to be Queen of Hell, she’d then have to kill Meg. No if, ands, or buts. Then the two of you face off, with the three of us trying to help you bring her down. We can’t kill her… but we can wear her out,” Sam offered.

“Cas?” Dean barked.

Castiel thought for a moment before saying, “I have to agree with Sam. If what the demon said is true, Crowley will be hunting for Meg. If not, he will still want to kill her because she’s Meg and he’s Crowley,” he pointed out. 

“Meg?” Dean asked a little more softly.

“It’s as solid a plan as we can get. If we find that other demons are siding with me… then we revise the plan. We could use the backup when I take on Abbie. But until then, I agree with Sam here. Deano?”

Dean nodded. “It’s solid. And you’re right. Until we know, we have to continue on. If the demon was being honest…” Dean sighed. “I don’t know what we do then. But we’ll all figure it out. Together. Now what’s the best way to find Crowley? Summoning him?”

Meg shook her head and held up a hand. “We want word of this to get back to Abbie dearest, so it has to be done in a place with a higher demon population. If we summon him here, with no one in sight, who the hell will tell her I did this? I think we find the nearest rest stop, ask around about the typical demonic activity. Hit the bar, see if we find any demons and… force it outta them if we have to.”

She gulped, her eyes hitting the ground for a moment. But this was war and what had to be done had to be done. 

“Okay. I’m game,” Dean agreed, and everyone else nodded along. 

“Then let’s get going,” Meg said.

It was a couple hours to the nearest rest stop, and since angel’s didn’t sleep, Meg thought she’d have to entertain him. But it appeared that he’d become entranced with the green fields on either side of them, wholly in love with this creation. So Meg let him be as it gave her time to think. 

She had an emotion gnawing at her, and it was an emotion that she couldn't readily identify as she knew she hadn’t felt it since she became a demon. If she had to take a guess, she’d say it was remorse or guilt; maybe even a combination of the two. 

As she pulled into the rest stop next to the Impala, she wondered how she could possibly feel this after not having felt it for so long. She’d slain hundreds of people for things as simple as clothing, food, money, etc. And here she was in a battle, and she felt bad for a single casualty. 

“I think I’m gonna need a stiff drink,” she mumbled to Sam as she brushed past him. 

Sam being Sam, his eyes held concern, but Meg was who she was, and she breezed past him and punched Dean in the shoulder. Simply because. 

Inside the rest stop, it was pretty crowded. It was the only place to fill up for a while, the bartender told them. But that didn’t mean they still didn’t work hard for their business, he hurried on to say. Meg realized she was starving, and they all agreed to a shot and some food. 

Meg made sure Castiel ordered food. “I know you don’t need to eat,” she said, “But I’m human now, and I do. So we get a box and take it on the road.”

He’d nodded in understanding, his hand brushing her thigh and then finally resting there. Dean glanced over, a little surprised when Cas ordered, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Excuse me,” Meg asked after their food arrived. “I’m real big on creepy stories. Anything interesting been happening in this area?”

Meg made sure to lean forward, thanking all the Gods above for whomever invented pushup bras. She officially had cleavage, and her boobs surely helped the investigation. The man was spilling it out.

“Well, there’s a run down shack a few miles up North from here,” he told her, “and people are talking about a bunch of black eyes living there. Now I don’t know if it’s true, but if that’s how you get your kicks, I’d say go there tonight.”

Meg thanked him and then proceeded to scarf down her food while sipping at her coke. 

“What?” she asked when she noticed Dean watching her.

He shrugged before saying, “I just never knew you liked burgers.”

Meg snorted. “Who doesn’t? For all his healthy foods, even Sam there enjoys burgers and fries. He just thinks it’s not so good for ya. Which is fine. But I had to go months on model food. It fucking sucked. Never again.” She shook her head. 

“Don’t look now,” Cas whispered in her ear, his breath hot on it, sending shivers up her spine. “But there’s a demon here that is watching you. Don’t make any signs you notice. It appears to be only the one.”

Meg nodded before grabbing Dean and passing the information along to him by whispering in his ear. Dean grabbed Sam, his hand lingering at Sam’s waist before whispering in his ear.

Meg guessed that even being able to pass as a gay couple was hard. A lot of these truckers were country-ish, and they didn’t take kindly to two men together, but they jacked off on lonely nights to skin movies of lesbians. Made sense. 

Even so, Sam leaned into Dean, and Dean leaned into Sam. It was just natural for the two of them, it seemed. As Meg got a refill on her coke and ‘stole’ some of the fries of Castiel’s plate, she thought about what that must feel like. 

Cas leaned in to whisper into her ear and ask if she was okay, a concerned look in his eyes. He was beautiful, all short hair, blue eyes, tanned skin, and slight stubble. She smiled and nodded, before leaning in for a quick kiss without thinking. And he gave it to her, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. 

They all spent some time laughing, Dean drinking a coke instead of a jack because they were about to go check out a possible demon’s nest and being drunk on the job was dangerous. 

As they left, Castiel hung back slightly. When they made it to their cars, Cas’ gruff voice rang out.

“If you take one more step towards her, I will kill you slowly and painfully,” he growled out. 

The demon looked scared, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Meg, and she slowly made her way forward. 

“Who are you?” she questioned, shoving her container of food into Sam’s hands and standing tall, or as tall her short stature would allow. 

The demon fell to his knees. “I am but a lowly demon, new to this life. But I have heard of your greatness, My Queen. We have been waiting for any sign of you, and now you are here! We’ve been waiting.”

He looked at her with a hint of desperation on his face. She found it easy to believe he was a new demon. Hell, she could practically smell the trace of humanity that still clung to him. 

“So, you’re simply a scout?” she asked, and he nodded vigorously. 

“Let me guess, your leader is in the house a few miles up, right?”

His eyes went big as he nodded. “They’ve said you had ways to discover information faster than anyone else. Yes, that is where we are. Where we’ve been waiting.”

“Well, I’ll be on my way. Soon,” she promised and turned and walked away. “Leave this one alive,” she ordered and was amazed when Dean didn’t argue with her. 

Meg turned back one last time. "You are now _my_ scout, understood?" Meg asked, and the demon nodded. "Go and find more who side with us and tell them I am coming."

They hopped into their cars, Cas still riding shotgun with her, and headed North while looking for this run down house. 

"Got his scent?" Meg asked Angel boy who nodded.

"If they turn out to be traitors, I can smite him from where ever we are without him even expecting it," he promised.

It shouldn't have made her smile the way it did, but for them it was almost romantic sounding. 

It wasn’t hard to spot the shack as it wasn’t set back off the road very far. They weren’t trying to hide it, that was for damn sure. Meg had a slight prickle of fear as they pulled up. 

“There’s five demons,” Cas told her. “I could take them all out easily. None of them are higher level demons.” 

As they got out of the car, Meg told Sam and Sam told Dean, so they were all on the same page. Meg walked behind Angel boy and between Sam and Dean. Suddenly it felt like she was the one in charge, and that’s what these demons all seemed to believe. She liked this feeling. As they banged down the door and entered the rundown house, demons came down the stairs, all eyes on Meg. 

Angel boy was right, there were only five, and she could sense their powers. She could possibly take them all out herself, if it came to that. Let one live to pass on the information that she was alive, and she wasn’t about to let anyone conquer her. 

The leader, a bronze skinned woman, stepped forward. “My Queen,” she said and dipped her head. The others followed suit.

Cas stepped aside slightly, allowing Meg to have a better look, but still allowing him to easily step in front of her and block an attack. 

“And you are?” Meg asked, arching a brow. 

“I am Leslie. I am the leader of this small group of believers. There are a lot more of us out there, hidden, waiting for your return,” the woman said, her voice all treble. 

“Who even told you of my return in the first place?” Meg asked in a sickeningly sweet voice that hinted at danger.

“A witch in Kansas named Missouri. She said the one to end the fighting was coming with the Winchester’s and an angel. You have both,” Leslie said with a gesture at the boys and Castiel.

Dean swore softly next to her. She wanted to kick him for giving away anything about what they did or didn’t know, but she’d do that later if she remembered.

“Lovely. So how many are there? And does Crowley know? Or Abaddon?” Meg question, getting down to the business at hand.

A demon on the stairs moved slightly, and Meg thought everyone in the house was about to die. Castiel held his hand out in warning, the grace glowing across the room. 

Leslie backed away, and so did the other demons. The Winchester’s drew blades, and Meg stood there looking bored.

“Calm down, everyone. Quit being so jumpy. He’s just a high ranking Angel of the lord. No need to be scared unless this is some kind of trap. Then you have every reason to be afraid,” Meg said with a smile. 

The demons slowly went back to their original positions, the one on the stairs choosing to sit this time. Leslie appeared scared, but she went to stand back in front of Meg and continue where she left off.

“To the best of my knowledge, both know about you, and neither one is pleased. Crowley is more afraid of you than Abaddon. And there are hundreds of us, my Queen.”

Meg thought for a moment. “What did the prophecy say exactly?”

“I don’t know exactly… but you could ask her yourself…”

Meg looked around and sensed no one else. “No one is here but us.”

“She means,” Dean cut in, “That we could phone her and ask her. Not that Missouri is here now,” Dean said stiffly.

“My Queen,” Leslie began, “We’d like to fight with you. Please. Allow us that one, small privilege. We want to protect you. We aren’t much, but we can help.” Leslie pleaded. 

“Tell ya what. We’re going to go call Missouri, and I’ll get back to you on that one,” Meg said with a cheeky grin, and Leslie beamed. 

Meg practically shoved Dean Winchester out the door. He’d made her look stupid, and she wasn’t one for looking stupid. Period. Sam sighed behind them.

“What was that for!” Dean asked. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Deano. We go to meet a bunch of demons, and you make me look stupid in front of the very demons that could make sure we don’t die in this fight,” she hissed. 

“They’re demons!” Dean yelled.

“So was I!” she screamed. 

“Guys, pretty sure they can hear you,” Sam interjected softly. 

Both Dean and Meg stopped yelling and went to glaring at each other instead. 

“Dean, if Meg is their idol, she can’t look weak to them. She’s already human. I doubt they know what abilities she does or doesn’t have at the moment. All they want is the fighting to end, and they will follow anyone strong to get that. If they are backed by as many demons as they say, that could turn the tide for us,” Sam explained softly. 

“So what should I have done?” Dean growled. 

“One of us should have whispered to her right then and there who Missouri was. They don’t need to know we work as a team, or even what we tell Meg. But that would put her in the loop,” Sam validated. 

“Whatever,” Dean bit out. It was as close to an apology as they were going to get out of him.

Dean whipped out his phone and selected Missouri’s number from his contacts. As the phone rang Dean shifted from foot to foot and put the phone on speaker. 

“Well,” the southern drawl rang through. “It’s about damn time you lot called!” she exclaimed. 

Meg couldn’t stop the amused grin from spreading across her face. 

“Now, I’m assuming that’s Meg and her Angel there, I’m sensing?” Dean started making a face, but before he could even open his mouth, Missouri was barking out, “Now don’t you back talk to me, Dean Winchester!”

Dean’s mouth snapped shut suddenly, and a look of pure terror crossed his face. 

“Now, where were we. Oh yes, hello, Meg, hello, Castiel. I suppose you’re trying to find out what I predicted about you?” she asked kindly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Meg replied just as kindly. She liked anyone who could put Dean Winchester in his place. 

“Well, I told one demon who told others that a very powerful Demon was being brought back by Death himself. And that this demon would have the power to not only stop the fighting but to improve the lives of all demons. You see, Meg, your blood is the cure. All the demons you meet? You can cure every single one of them. Of course, then they’ve no way to leave the body their in, so make sure it’s an unoccupied body before you go trying it,” she ordered, and Meg could just picture a woman with one hand on her hip and one finger wagging at Meg. 

“Yes, ma’am, I will keep that in mind. So all the demons of the world… we could cure them?” she asked.

“YOU could cure them. Without you there is no cure. So I’d say you make sure to store some of that blood somewhere because if something happens to you? Well then there goes the cure,” Missouri said in a matter-of-fact tone. 

It wasn’t cruel, it was… honest. 

“So then should we do like a Meg Master blood drive, where I donate my blood as needed, and in case of emergency, its distributed in my demise?” she suggested, looking more at Sam. Sam understood planning for your own death to save others. He would understand that if this was what had to be done… so be it.

“Exactly. You never can be too careful, Meg. The future is a messy business. Sometimes there are clear paths. But anyone involved with the Winchesters? Their paths are never cut and dry. No matter how this turns out, you’ll start a revolution that will turn the tide. And that’s only if you fail. So imagine what happens if you don’t die in two months?” Missouri said almost as way of a hint. 

Dean and Meg’s eyes met in brief understanding. They had to watch out in two months. 

“Thanks, Missouri. And may I ask one last question?” Meg said while running a hand through her hair.

“Oh, those demons in the house? Child, you can trust them. They will follow you to the very pits of hell and back, and it won’t be long until you prove to them that trusting you is worth their while. Believe me on that!” she spoke firmly. 

Meg nodded, and then when she remembered Missouri couldn’t see her, she felt a tad bit foolish. “Of course. Thank you so much for your help,” she said genuinely. 

With a small chuckle on Missouri’s part, the phone line was disconnected, and Team Free Will was left standing out there in the cool night. Meg didn’t realize until Castiel wrapped his trench coat around her shoulder that she was indeed freezing in the crisp night air. What month was it even? Fall, edging into winter if the air was any give away. 

“So…” Meg began softly, as she let her previous altercation with Dean fall by the wayside. 

“If we can save all these demons…” Dean said slowly.

“Then it’s worth a shot,” Sam interjected.

“I could help them find the bodies whose souls have since departed, so that the humans in their current bodies may go free,” Castiel offered in his way of assistance. 

Meg nodded slowly. “Missouri says we can trust them, and for some reason the love birds here trust her so… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Deano might be right. If we trust her, we trust them,” Meg said firmly. 

Sam sighed. “The only issue will be if something happens to you. Then what do we do?” 

Meg let out a yawn, stumbling into Castiel’s arms. He caught her easily. “Look, boys, I’m not sure of all that right now. But we’ve been driving all day, and I’m pretty damn tired. Let’s see if Leslie’s crew has some beds for us. I take the Angel, y’all take the demon blade and Angel blade,” she offered in between yawns.

It was those damn shots, she just knew it. Or maybe it was one shot. Her alcohol tolerance was shit as a human now. Either way, Meg was beyond worn out, and she wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with her Clarence.

“Hey, Leslie,” her voice rang loudly as the woman’s face popped into view. “Do you have any beds we could bunk in? We only need two,” she explained.

Leslie’s face light up. “But of course, My Queen! We’ve got two king beds made up for y’all, and we can get some wood burning to warm the two adjacent rooms up. Sound good?”

Meg gave a sleepy grin as she nodded. “That sounds fuckin’ perfect,” she told the other woman.


	8. Chapter 8

When Meg woke the next morning the fire had burnt out already, but Castiel’s body was molded around her’s, keeping her nice and warm. She gave a sleepy sigh and started to close her eyes, wanting to drift back to sleep. 

A light rap on the door proved this impossible, and Castiel was the one to tell the person on the other side of the door that they could indeed come in. Meg used her foot to kick him lightly, which she wasn’t sure he would even notice. 

“We have breakfast cooking downstairs, and the Winchesters are up and moving around. They… asked us to come get you,” the male voice said.

Meg slowly opened her eyes to discover the demon from last night that had been on the stairs in front of her. She nodded and made a shooing motion, and he complied by hurrying out of her presence. It was too easy. 

Meg buried her face in the pillow, but of course her Clarence wasn’t having any of that. Somehow, between her refusing to relinquish her grip on the bed, and Cas getting fed up with her unwillingness to get up, he just ended up carrying her down the stairs, blankets trailing behind still in her grasp. Which made for a pretty grand entrance, being carried by an angel and all. 

“Breakfast?” Meg croaked as she was set down. She wrapped the blanket around herself, still not wanting to even be awake at this ungodly hour. Sleep was nice. Dreams were good. She would like more of that, please. Dreams were not something demons were ever granted, excluding the time Lucifer walked the Earth.

One of the demons hurried to get her a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast along with a fork. With demons, eating wasn’t a must unless you wanted your vessel to die of starvation the moment you smoked out. So Meg had always kept hers well fed. Besides, the food was good.

She scarfed down what was on the plate and gulped the glass of OJ that she was given greedily, her eyes constantly darting around her. Just in case. 

She knew that these demons were no threat to her, her Angel, or the boys. Still, part of her prickled with a tiny drop of fear every time one got too close. She wondered if this was how all humans felt around demons. 

“Okay,” Dean’s voice carried into the house as he came barging in. “We have our vehicles ready to go. Do y’all have any type of vehicle? Also, we have to get Meg here,” he gestured at her, “To a clinic. Or get some materials from a clinic. Any of you got meatsuits that were once doctors?”

Meg lifted a brow but said nothing as all the demons shook their head. “

You forget, Deano. I used to be a nurse. I can acquire the materials pretty easily,” she cut in smoothly.

She was hoping he was talking about the materials to get some vials of her blood. She knew exactly how to that, as she’d been forced to take care of patients other than just Castiel while he was in the hospital. She was a fast study, and she’d definitely picked up on how to do it. She even went so far as to teach Cas. Just in case it was pertinent that she ever needed him to give her a blood transfusion. 

Dean nodded sharply, barely meeting her eyes, and it was evident that last night’s spat was still on his mind. So be it. It sure as hell wasn’t on hers. 

“The nearest hospital would be about two and a half hours from here,” Leslie offered in a small voice. 

Meg nodded her thanks, but she didn’t dare verbally give it. Dean was always looking for an excuse to hate her. And if she was anything but distant from her demons, he’d probably try and gank her even if it damned the world. 

It took them about half an hour, mostly because Meg demanded a shower, but they were soon all ready to hit the road; Impala in the front, Meg behind the Impala, and the band of demons behind Meg. 

First stop was the hospital, where Meg donned some scrubs, took what they needed like she owned the place, and was gone seconds later. Castiel called her efficient to which she shrugged. Maybe she was, but it was all about looking like you had an idea what you were doing. No one ever questioned you, they just all thought you were a new nurse. In hospitals there were too many nurses for anyone to ever really keep track of you anyway.

Once they were a respectable distance from the hospital, Meg had Cas call the boys and ask where they thought they should be heading to. It took a moment, but eventually the Winchesters seemed to agree that a major city would hide an Angel traveling with five demons pretty well. So from there they headed to the nearest city. It wasn’t as huge as New York, Houston, or Vegas, but it had enough motels that they could spread out and still be a few blocks near each other.

As soon as they'd settled into their motel, she had Castiel immediately set to work and take the first few vials of blood.

“Is this enough?” he mused and she shrugged.

“How the hell should I know? Pick the blond male demon. Tell him to find a brain dead meat suit and occupy it. He gets the cure first,” Meg ordered. 

The blond man was more than happy to oblige, wanting nothing more than to please his Queen. 

“Oh, this will please me greatly,” she promised with a smirk on her face.

But Leslie had some words, wanting to know exactly what would happen to one of her number, and Meg definitely had some words back.

“How dare you,” she hissed. “Do you even know how old I am? Do you even have a clue as to my age?”

Leslie shook her head, fear starting to show in her eyes.

“I am damn well close to Abaddon’s age, you insolent child! Did it ever occur to you that I don’t know what exactly will happen to him, which is why the weakest of you was chosen?”

Once again Leslie shook her head.

“Of course you didn’t. How could a demon that’s only a hundred years old understand anything that a demon my age understands? Here’s something, you fucking couldn’t. He won’t be raised by the Horseman of Death. He will be changed, and I’m not sure how. But if you want to win this war, then we have to find it now,” Meg hissed.

“Unless,” she continued, “You want to go kiss ass to Abaddon and hope she doesn’t kill you. And knowing what I know of Abaddon, I can promise that you’ll all be slaughtered for being traitors, plain and simple. Abaddon may be many things, but she will always retain her hatred of those who cannot find a cause and stay loyal to it until the end," Meg hissed. 

"Or there’s Crowley," Meg began again, her voice high and shrill, "The man that sold his soul for a few more inches below the belt. Is that who you want to call your King?” she demanded.

“N-No my Queen. Not at all.” Leslie was literally shaking with fear. 

“Then I suggest you show some damn respect. Or I’ll kill you myself,” Meg growled, gripping the woman’s heart with her powers and squeezing.

Leslie fell to the floor of their motel room and spit up some blood. It was really nothing major, but these demons had to know she was in charge. If that meant slowly killing their leader, then she’d have no choice. Of course she was hoping a display of dominance would work just as well.

Leslie soon was begging for mercy while promising never to betray her queen again. Meg glanced at Dean who shrugged. One less demon was one less demon to him. Sam was a bit more sympathetic, though. He always had been. Then there was Castiel, utterly indifferent and more than ready to smite them all. 

“That’s the thing though, Leslie. What I just did is child’s play. What if Abaddon gets ahold of you. Will you go spilling my secrets to her?” Meg demanded.

Leslies said no, but it was after a moment’s hesitation. And that’s when Meg knew just how weak the woman was. 

“Can you perform an exorcism?” Meg asked Castiel. 

“Of course. But it could harm the others in the room. I will take her away and see to it the human gets to a hospital,” he assured them, and with a rustle of wings was gone. 

“Does anyone else want to join her?” Dean barked, and all the demons shook their heads. 

“Good. Then we can get down to business,” Sam said as he set the syringe up, waiting for the blond demon to come back.

Except when blondie came back, he wasn’t so blond. He was now a very dark skinned male. Meg was sure this male had at one point been extremely muscular, but due to being on life support his muscles had depleted.

“And you’re positive it’s only you in there?” Sam asked.

The demon nodded after doing a quick double check, which Meg appreciated. She gave Sam a nod, and he prepped the demon, telling him he wouldn’t even feel it.

Meg sat back with the other demons and watched as Sam jabbed the needle into the demon’s neck and pushed down on the syringe. 

“I don’t think it’s instantaneous,” he explained as he pulled the needle out. “At the bunker we had tapes showing a process that took hours. Even if your blood is stronger due to whatever happened to you, it could still take time. It’s his soul that is essentially transitioning. And we’re not sure to what. So, with your permission, I’d like to cuff him.”

One of the other demons groaned, but Meg held up her hand. “No, he’s right. None of us knows what to expect. Anything could happen. He could suddenly become violent and try to kill us all. Once we’re certain everything has gone smoothly, we’ll uncuff him. But I won’t risk everyone else when I’m not sure myself what could happen,” she decided. 

The demon who’d volunteered nodded. “Our Queen is right. Anything could happen. It’s better to take any necessary precautions now, instead of winding up with regret later,” he insisted.

With the Dean went to fetch the cuffs, Sam put him in a devil’s trap, and Castiel returned to them all lounging around watching television, waiting to administer the next dose. 

“Did I miss something?” Castiel asked.

“We’re taking precautions now,” Dean told him simply. 

Castiel nodded. “Okay then. Well, Leslie was dropped off at a hospital. She will be fine. She told them I found her in an alleyway after someone mugged her.”

Meg whistled. “Smart girl. Good, because we don’t want anyone finding us until we’re ready.”

This got agreement from the whole group, and Meg sat back and really took it in. They all were different. Humans, an Angel, whatever Meg was, and a bunch of demons. It was like an all too elaborate joke whose punchline was nowhere in sight, but just having them in the same sentence was funny enough.

Meg looked over at Castiel who was looking at the group like he was having similar thoughts. She couldn’t stop the smile that came to her face when their eyes met. She barely paid attention when a second later Sam’s phone went off, and he got up to put the second vial of her blood in the demon's neck. 

Castiel jerked his head though, and she managed to look over just in time to see the needle come out of the demon’s neck. When five minutes passed and still nothing was happening, one of the demons offered to get food. Dean went with, insisting the demon would mess up his pie, but Meg knew he’d really feel better keeping an eye on the demon. 

All that time she’d been one, and now here she was mistrustful of them. Of course she herself had back-stabbed a lot of people, Castiel being one of the only exceptions. But that was the life of a demon. That’s who she’d been. In and out of hell it was a kill or be killed world. 

Which was why she aligned herself with the Winchesters in the first place. Maybe Dean had been too dumb to see it, but she knew with one look that Castiel’s memories weren’t gone; they were simply hidden beneath the surface, waiting for something to trigger them into coming back out. 

Smiting had been just the thing, and she felt safe traveling with a full throttle angel and a Winchester. Crowley had still been hunting her down, but she wasn’t an easy one to catch.

Meg Masters would always be a survivor. 

When injection three went into the demon’s neck, Castiel approached it, squinting this way and that.

“He looks less demon-y,” Cas declared with a simple nod.

“How much less are we talking, Cas? We’ve only got two more vials of blood left.” Sam sounded… tired.

Cas returned to squinting at the demon. “It’s like seeing a picture over another picture, so I cannot be sure. But it’s enough that I can tell he isn’t a full demon. Like how Meg looked after I first kissed her,” Castiel said without thinking.

“Woah, you kissing me cleansed me?” she said indignantly as the other demons simply watched on. “Why not just kiss him?”

Castiel furrowed his eyes and looked at Dean and Sam. “I distinctly get the feeling that this is a trick question. Our kiss was mutual. This one would not be. Hence the reason I never brought it up.”

Which, okay, that explained a few things, but it still would have been nice if Angel boy had told her in the beginning that she’d begun changing. Then again, how would she have reacted if he’d told her? To Castiel, it was unimportant that she was changing. They were fighting right then and there. Taking the time to say, ‘hey you look less like a demon!’ wasn’t on the list of things to do back at the compound. 

Apparently neither was killing Crowley, which is why they were still trying to do it after all this time, and why Meg was more than happy to sacrifice all the demons in the room to achieve that end. 

The movie they were watching was some old time romance, but amazingly enough was that as the minutes passed, the demon in the devil’s trap began crying at the sad parts.

Maybe if Meg had seen a little less death, she too would be inclined to cry now. But that wasn’t who she was, demon or human. But this young baby demon was sniffling softly, then loudly. 

Castiel was once again the one to approach him, poking and prodding, using his grace very lightly. “Sam, the last injection!” Castiel growled, and Sam hopped to it. 

And with the last injection the demon convulsed twice, and then he moved no more. His chest still rose and fell, but it was like he was sleeping. There were a few light jerks, and then his eyes opened slowly.

At first he looked confused, as though he wasn’t sure of anyone around him. But the way demons looked as demons and the way they looked as humans was vastly different. 

When his eyes landed on the Winchesters and then Meg, he seemed to remember or at least realize where he was. Castiel undid his cuffs and stepped back to see if he could make it out of the devil’s trap himself. 

He was weak, as this human body had been frail, but with a few small steps he was out of the trap like any human would be. Like it didn’t exist. 

“Castiel, check if the body needs healing,” Meg instructed.

It took Castiel a good ten minutes as he worked on fixing the muscle tissue so the man—as he was truly no longer a demon—could support himself. Everyone in the room practically held their breath, as they were all extremely anxious to see what he was capable of. 

“Okay,” Castiel said as he stepped away. “He will be able to support his weight, I took care of the mal-nourishment; it was simple things like that. However, with those things combined, it could have weighed him down and led to overall not feeling well.”

His eyes were on Meg as he spoke, and she nodded with each bit of information before standing and walking towards him. 

“What’s your name?” Meg asked.

He looked at her a long moment before responding with, “James. I-I don’t remember my last name. But I remember my friends all called me James.”

“Can you smoke out?” Meg asked. 

James threw his head back and attempted it, but it didn’t seem to work. 

“Do you have any powers?” Meg asked him.

“To be honest, I was too low level a demon to actually have any powers. I can try a few things, but if I didn’t before, I’m not sure I’ll have any now.”

Meg nodded. “Just try maybe moving an object with your mind or something. We have to make sure is all.”

James nodded and did as he was instructed. Meg doubted anyone was more surprised than he was when the television remote came hurtling to him, stopped in the middle of the air, and then slowly lowered itself down into Meg’s lap. 

She gave him an appraising look. “Sam, tomorrow I want you to take James here and find a local gym. See if we can find out just how strong he is now physically,” she ordered.

“Great idea,” Sam said approvingly. 

“James,” Meg began. “We’re going to keep an eye on you the next few days. Castiel will continue to give you some check ups, just to see if anything changes, for better or worse, or if it all stays the same,” she finished.

James nodded, his eyes downcast.

“Thank you, my Queen,” he said finally.

And really there was no other appropriate response he could have given.


	9. Chapter 9

Over the next few days, they all strategized. The remaining demons hunted out bars to see what the word was, Sam and Meg worked with James to build up his strength, and damn was it building. Meanwhile, Dean and Castiel would each go with a group of demons just in case any hunters happened upon their little group and decided to try and wipe them out. So far that hadn't been an issue, but one could never be too careful. 

And of course, none of them relished the thought of killing a hunter--well, except maybe the demons--, but if it had to be done than it had to be done. This was more than anyone person. Which was why, as days passed, Meg had a sinking feeling in her stomach. 

She wanted to ignore it, but it was too heavy to be ignored. It cried out, demanding to be heard. It beat against the walls of her head and the lining of her heart, screaming for acknowledgement and release. The more Meg kept trying to brush the thought aside, the more it came back with a vengeance. One of them was going to die. 

She couldn’t tell Dean; he’d take Sam and split. Anything about Sam possibly dying and that’s what Dean would always do. 

So instead she shared her concerns with Castiel one night. He nodded his head in agreement, saying he too had long wondered if that wasn’t the case.

“So… what do we do?” she asked softly, fear creeping into her voice, fear that she usually kept at bay. Even though the Winchesters were asleep in the room across the hall, Meg worried that they’d somehow hear them, somehow hear her and judge her.

But not Castiel. With him she could show she was afraid. She didn't have to be strong or put on a show. He knew exactly who she was, and he wouldn't think her weak for not being prepared to fight or die. After all, he'd once been a pacifist. 

 

Castiel shrugged. “We fight anyway. That one death could help save us, and we in turn could save the world. So… we keep trudging on, as scary as it is for me to lose any of you,” he concluded.

Meg nodded, thinking the conversation was over. But that night he held her tight, as if he were afraid of what would happen if he let go for even a second. She curled into her Angel, enjoying the feel of his wings, and she could feel them. Her eyes had to be closed or else her mind thought tricks were being played, but there was the light touch of feathers across her arms. 

The next morning Sam and James were practically banging down the door, so excited to show Meg the progress James had made. Sometimes Meg wondered about this whole hands-on Queen thing, but she knew that her soldiers would fight to the death for her. They were now working on a second demon to be turned human, and every day Meg gave more blood. Dean Winchester had made a joke that if she died, they’d still have enough blood to save enough demons that it would count. 

Of course it was a tasteless joke, but what could one expect from Dean Winchester? They were currently using James’ blood to see if that would yield the same results as hers had. 

When Meg opened the door, James bounded into the room, levitating a tray of food to her. She mumbled a thanks and dug into it. Food was food after all. 

“So we all worked really late last night,” Sam began. “And we used James’ blood like you suggested, and it appears to have worked. The other girl’s name? Viola,” he informed her proudly. 

“And we did all the usual tests? Devil’s Trap, salt, holy water, Christo?” Meg drawled in a bored tone. 

Sam nodded. “Not only that, but her change seems to have somehow strengthened James. He was able to sense every demon in a half a mile radius, something that’s been impossible up until now,” Sam gushed. 

Meg chewed thoughtfully, pondering over this and what it could mean. She registered Cas moving behind her, and she knew he’d heard, but when she looked over he shrugged, just as confused as she was.

“Okay, do either of you have a theory for this?” Meg asked, chewing the french toast.

“We stumbled onto the same conclusion around the same time,” James said with an incline of his head to Meg. “Many types of magick use blood to strengthen a bond. So the two people share each other’s strengths and abilities. I, well, we, were thinking this could be something similar,” he explained. 

“Does she appear stronger than you first were?” Meg questioned.

Both Sam and James nodded their heads rapidly. Meg couldn't help but think that it was too early for this much excitement. 

“That could be due to her body having just gone on life support, though,” Sam explained. “So we won’t know for sure until we chart her progress over the next few days.”

“You should have called me,” Castiel interrupted, clearly unhappy. “If something had gone wrong, Viola would have died. That’s why we do these things together, so that we can all have each other’s backs in the event of unforeseen circumstances,” he growled. 

Meg nodded. “Clarence is right. You should go now, Cas. She could have bleeding in the brain or just…”

He understood and nodded. With a ruffle of wings, he was gone and presumably now with the demons in the hotel across the street.

“Meg, I-I’m sorry. We just had a sudden idea, and we went with it, But you’re right. Anything could have happened. It going right is no excuse for me to act like a novice hunter. I’m sorry,” Sam stated.

Meg could have lashed out at him. Hell, she could have physically beat him even. But this was Sam, and she’d been spending so much time with him that either idea was utterly ridiculous to her. He’d meant well, and luckily it had all turned out okay.

“Just don’t allow it to happen again, either of you. We’re good. Cas doesn’t sleep, so you could always call him,” she offered.

Sam and James let out a sigh of relief. Meg knew that her killing Leslie was still etched into everyone’s minds, but she still stood by her decision. She knew James would die for the group in a second. He believed in everything they were doing, as did the other demons. Leslie had been nothing more than a liability who would sell them out to Abaddon if she thought it might spare her own life. Pathetic. 

“Anyway, I can sense other demons that are holed up not too far from here. I can sense their levels, and I think, if we all wait until we’re at our best, they’d be nowhere near a match for any of us. Especially with Castiel at our side,” James said.

Meg chewed her mouthful of food for a moment and swallowed before asking, “Is there any way we could find out their intentions? Like whose side they are on?” Her eyes darted back and forth between Sam and James.

“I think… and this is a leap, my Queen… but I think if we changed one more person, it might be possible. But again, that’s a leap, and I’m not sure we want to be dealing with two people transitioning at once, so it’s perhaps not the best idea ever,” James backtracked so fast it almost gave Meg whiplash. 

“What of Viola’s last vessel? Is the girl herself okay?” Meg asked suddenly and with a fierce intensity.

“Scared, but she’s fine. She went to the hospital saying she couldn’t remember who she was. She was recently taken, so she will be returned to her family,” Sam explained.

The warmth that spread across her chest was similar to the warmth Clarence made her feel. It felt good to know another person was saved and only empty bodies were being used now. 

But then her smile faltered. “What about the families of the vessels that we’re using now? What do they think is happening? Are we breaking more people’s hearts?” she accused. 

“No,” Sam said with his hands held up. “Castiel goes to them, and tells them that while a spirit is in the body, it is not their child. Hell tells them that their child has passed, and is in a beautiful heaven. He shows his wings. I’m sure he will be doing the same with the family of the body Viola took. But he also tells them that God is fighting a war, and they must stay quiet about it.”

As Sam explained Meg took a deep breath of air. She felt better about it. Remembering what she gave her soul up for in the first place helped her to think of how parents might feel in these situations. The human that she was wanted to cry with relief. 

“So… they get the closure they need?” Meg said with a shaky breath.

Sam nodded. “We should have told you sooner. Given what you sold your soul for, we should have made sure you’d know first and foremost exactly how it was being handled. I’m so sorry, Meg.”

Sam laid his hand on top of Meg’s, the apology written clearly on his face. Meg knew he meant it. The fact they’d thought to make sure these families would have closure meant a lot period. It showed that they were moving forward in a good way. 

And if Sam was the one to die, could Meg waste precious time being mad at him? No. While she hadn’t been told, they’d thought to cover all the bases so that in the end no one was harmed. That was enough for her. 

Meg looked over at James who simply looked confused. She offered him a small smile before asking, “You don’t know what I sold my soul for, do you?”

James shook his head, eyes automatically falling to the floor.

“I was pregnant. In those days we used witchcraft all the time. It was more veering towards shamanism. Well the pregnancy was… hard on me, to say the least. Then I got the news that my fiancee had died in battle.”

Meg took and released a big breath. “You have to understand, I spent most my life working as a whore, which is what Crowley loves to always refer to me as. So this man comes in, falls in love with me, and offers to marry me. He was a good man, and I loved him dearly. After his passing… it was like the pregnancy became worse. And this child was all I would have of my future husband. Though in some tribes they already considered him my husband, so I was allowed his land and house. But this child was the two of us. Combined. Our souls entwined,” Meg explained.

James was nodding his head, completely enraptured with her story.

“Well, there was talk of new gods with black eyes. I wasn’t a fool. I knew what they were. I think we all did. But my soul to save my son’s life? Crowley made the deal. And the deal would let my son live into his fourties. After that, it was up to fate, but it was forty years he would otherwise not have had. And I would get six short months with. So I took the deal, and I didn’t even fight when the hell hounds dragged me to hell. I’ve been a lot of things, James. But first I was a mother, desperate to save her son by any means necessary. And if I had it to do all over again? I’d sell my soul again in a second to save him.”

Meg knew there were tears on her face. She felt the bear hug Sam was giving her, heard the uneasy clearing of Dean’s throat and the soft sigh of Castiel that meant they’d heard it all. But it was true. And it was important they know that their Queen was once a whore. And now? She’d treat them all like her children and build an empire.


	10. Chapter 10

Over the next two weeks, Viola and James grew at exponential rates. Or their powers did at least. It almost wore Meg out mentally to work with them on a daily basis, so James and Viola would try to outdo the other on some days. 

At this point, James was slowing down. While his senses were now much more honed, he still wasn’t powerful enough for Abaddon or Crowley. But every bit helped. 

Sometimes Meg would walk in on him sitting and staring at a wall, and he would confess a sin to her like she was a priest. Maybe she was in all their eyes. That was the only shitty part of being human again. You remembered what you’d done.

So when Viola and James were fit as a fiddle, they all sought out the other group of demons. Meg wasn’t going to lose anyone; she was going to gain more loyalists of her own. 

These demons were holed up in a warehouse not even a mile from their hotel. Meg wasn’t sure how long they’d been there, and she definitely wasn’t sure if them being there had anything to do with Meg and her lot, but they were about to find out.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Dean asked for possibly the fifth time in ten minutes.

“If you’re so scared, then hold Sammy’s hand or go back to the hotel. I don’t care which as long as you quit asking that infernal question, or I will make you a demon myself,” Meg ordered.

The gang snickered, even Sam joined in but he did indeed lace his fingers with Dean’s, refusing to allow Dean to pull his hand away. So silence fell on their little group. Castiel even reached for her hand, probably thinking this was a customary thing. But Meg liked it so she sure as hell wasn’t about to stop him.

As Dean and Sam kicked in a door, their group filed in with guns and knives drawn and holy water at the ready. Before them was a group of five more demons, and when they saw Meg they dropped to their knees in a worship position. 

“Seriously?” Meg asked no one in particular and therefore received no answer. 

“This was so anti-climatic,” she said to Dean once the new demons were safely restrained. 

“Wouldn’t you rather it be that way?” Sam asked in answer for Dean. 

“Of course!” Meg responded. “It just wasn’t what I was expecting, so I guess it makes me nervous. I keep thinking we’re somehow going to get trapped by Crowley or Abbie or someone out there.”

Dean nodded. “Makes sense, to be worried about it. The moment we don’t worry is the moment we get caught.”

Meg shrugged, but the words brought a sinking feeling over her, and she sure as hell didn’t like it. She walked over to her new followers who were all still chanting.

“So, anyone going to answer my questions?” she demanded of them.

They all said ‘me!’ at the same time, all so eager to help. If rolling her eyes would have helped the situation instead of making it worse, Meg probably would have rolled her eyes as far back into her head as was possible. But these were new followers and she had to keep up appearances and such.

“Let’s start at this end,” she said pointing. “Where’s Crowley?” she asked.

“Chicago. Good pizza, lots of cover, he hasn’t left as far as we know, except to try and track the Winchesters.” The other demons nodded along with him as though to silently verify this. 

“How do you know this?” she asked as she pointed at the next person in line. 

“We ran with his crew long enough to figure out the plan and spread word of your return,” the next woman said carefully, eyes on the ground at all times. 

“And why are you doing that?” she asked as she pointed at the third person, a male this time.

“Because you’re the person who is going to seal the gates of hell and save us all,” he said firmly. 

“The support is so nice,” she smirked.

“We will always support our Queen,” said the fourth demon rather firmly. 

Then there was the fifth demon, rather stoic looking. He simply nodded along with the others. For a moment Meg wondered if his meatsuit was capable of talking. Not all were, sadly. Those were usually abandoned as quickly as they were taken, which was better for the person in the long run. 

“And you are?” she asked him.

But when he opened his mouth, it was obvious he couldn’t talk; his tongue was gone.

“That’s Marcus,” the second person in the line, the woman, said. “Crowley cut it out himself when he realized Marcus wasn’t going to talk. He wanted Marcus to spill the beans. But he held up under torture. So while Crowley is pretty sure it’s you that is back, he doesn’t know for a fact. We were trying to make sure it stayed that way.”

The woman’s voice was strong and proud, something Meg found admirable. 

“Is it true?” the woman asked. “Can you close the gates of hell and save us?”

Meg shrugged. “I know I can make you human again. But stronger. Like James and Viola here. Beyond that, I’m not sure. That’s the plan, though,” Meg promised her.

The girl’s dark face lit up. She reminded Meg of the actress Lupita. She had the same build even. 

“We knew you’d come! That’s why we waited here. The prophet, Missouri, told us to!”

“She’s a psychic, but close enough, I suppose. It’s hard to imagine her wanting to even talk to you, but I’m glad she did. Now we have more on our team. And we are really going to need you,” Meg promised all of them. 

Maybe it was her imagination, but her new followers seemed pretty damn pleased about this. 

Once they rented another long term hotel room—and made everyone get a bath—they let James and Viola showcase their talents. Meg even showed off her skills, though not to an extreme extent. She didn’t want to injure anyone too badly. Castiel returned to them with a lot of food, and though Meg wondered how he got it, she didn’t ask. She never did. 

But Meg figured he was probably showing some Christian soul his wings and telling them it was for a good cause; he’d probably even go so far as to say they were helping the Lord’s army. 

More like Meg’s army, but whatever. Maybe even Death’s army, if you really wanted to stretch it. But that was about as far as you could get it to go. 

The next month was spent converting each demon to a new human. They let the Lupita look-a-like go, but the woman preferred that race, and it was another body like that one that she took. Just slightly curvier. It was fun to see them all in a body that was as close to their own as they would ever get again. It also gave them one less thing to feel bad about. They all slowly had to come to terms with what they’d done, and it wasn’t easy. 

When Dean approached her one afternoon, he looked ready for an argument when he said they found out through the grapevine where Crowley was. 

“I guess we better get ready for a fight then, huh?” she asked and he nodded.

“I’m going to make everyone clear out of your room tonight. Give you and Cas some privacy,” Dean said in a not so subtle way. 

But it was sweet. Meg always had someone sharing the hotel room with them, and it got to be a bit much. She never was really alone with her own boyfriend, and they were so busy preparing for a war that it seemed like she’d never have a night alone with him again. 

“What about you and Sam?” she asked slowly.

Dean shrugged. “We’ve had plenty of nights alone, and we’ve already… ya know. You deserve to get laid at least once before we start this war up,” he responded. 

Meg tilted her head and studied him. “Well… thanks. But you could put James in charge of watching everyone. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, and it would give you and Sam some alone time too.”

Dean nodded his head slowly. “Yeah, I can do that. Good idea. Although he and Viola might want to have alone time too,” he tossed out.

Meg shrugged. “Then tell everyone to partner up and get laid. We’re an even number.”

Dean laughed. “True. What’s a better way to spend what could be your last night, right?”

“For them, Dean, not us. We’re too experienced to go out against Crowley, especially with a small army, something I doubt he’s expecting. But I’m worried we may lose soldiers.” 

Meg sighed and looked down at the floor as she folded laundry. She knew she could get anyone else to do the laundry, but it helped her think, as weird as that was. It would be even weirder if one of her soldiers folded her underwear.

“We have demons that are loyal to us on Crowley’s side. Some of them are in high power spots. I think we’ll be okay. It’s always dangerous, and it’s always going to be dangerous. But it’s what we do, Meg. I know it’s not what you’ve always done, but you’re damn good at it. So just believe that we can make it through, and your army will be even bigger when we come out on the other side,” Dean said feverently. 

He always was passionate about this sort of stuff. Meg just nodded with a small smile on her face. 

When Meg finished her daily chores of laundry—without burning the damn trench coat with the iron, thankfully—Meg headed up to their hotel room. When she opened the door there were candles and flowers everywhere. There was also a pizza on the table.

“What’s all this, Clarence?” she called out as she put the laundry away in their suitcases and hung up his trench coat. 

“You once said that if we made it out alive, we were going to order pizza and move some furniture around. I have the pizza.”

And Meg would never admit it, but she was shaking ever so slightly, her human pulse was increased, and her eyes were dilated already. 

“Well then,” Meg said, “Let’s eat that pizza. I actually have something I wanted to show you.”

Castiel squinted in confusion as Meg scrambled to one of the dressers and pulled out a movie, holding it up.

“It’s A Wonderful Life?” Castiel read.

“It’s where I got your nickname from, Clarence. It’s still early. Let’s pop it in, eat some pizza, and you can show me what else that pizza man taught you,” Meg whispered.

This he understood, and Castiel nodded eagerly. They cuddled up on the couch, Meg’s head on his shoulder, as they watched the movie. Meg knew from the beginning Castiel was in love when he said that is how big angels are, some as big as tons of stars combined. He was so into it, and it was one of the cutest things Meg had seen in a long time. 

He was the cutest thing she’d ever seen, to be frank. Even his true form self had always been attractive to her. It spoke of power and heavenly wrath, and it was pretty huge. She’d often wondered when she was a demon what it would be like, for their true forms to be together. Now she’d never actually know. This was Jimmy’s body, but Jimmy was close to brain dead now. A price the vessel of an angel as powerful—or more powerful than Castiel—often paid.

As George Bailey’s reality was bent, Castiel ate some pizza and told Meg that was indeed possible, and it was obvious the person who made the movie knew what they were doing. 

Meg pushed away all unhappy thoughts. This was their night together, and she was going to enjoy it. If her Angel boyfriend could manage to eat pizza for her, she could be happy with him. 

“Angel’s don’t earn their wings, but I think that was to throw people off the scent,” he explained as the credits rolled. 

“Is that what it was?” Meg questioned cheekily.

Castiel nodded sincerely in response. “So I am the Clarence to your George Bailey?” he verified.

Meg nodded as a grin swept over her face. “Bingo!”

He scrunched up his face. “What’s a bingo?”

Meg collapsed against him laughing, and her laughter made him laugh for some reason. When she caught her breath, she explained that it meant correct.

“Want some wine?” she asked as she quickly got up. She usually hadn’t been a wine drinker, but her tolerance as a human to anything stronger than wine was shit. So wine it was if she wanted to enjoy the night.

She poured some for Angel boy to try and brought it back to the couch as Castiel started the movie over again for some reason. 

She sat next to him until the wine hit her, and she felt slightly braver. Then Meg decided to go for it and kiss him. If this was her last night alive—or Heaven forbid, his—she was going to make the most of it.

He tasted like pizza, wine, and something… clean; Not minty, just clean. His lips were soft, and Meg couldn’t resist biting them lightly. Or as light as she knew how because it did draw a prick of blood. Cas didn’t really seem to notice though. 

His hands were on either side of her face, softly cupping. She’d expected his hands to be rough, but they were so unexpectedly soft. Maybe all Angels were just… soft.

Cas bit her lip back the same as she’d done to him, and she was gasping and moaning into his mouth. It felt… intense. More intense than kissing had any right to feel, actually. 

Meg as a demon wouldn’t have been aware of Castiel picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. Meg as a human though was very much aware, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and squealed a bit. She felt rather than heard Cas laughing at her.

She was still clinging onto him as he set her gently on the bed. They locked eyes, and Meg felt a surge of emotion in her chest. She had to swallow back tears.

This Angel had stayed by her side, fought with and for her, and protected her from everyone and thing. He’d also been the one she’d spent countless nights with, reading to him from stupid gossip magazines, talking about the things they’d lived to see, and allowing him to braid her hair.

Meg had never wanted to spend her life, human or demon, with anyone. She’d been born to serve her fathers, Azazel and Lucifer. But given this new life and chance, Meg knew she wanted to spend it with Castiel. 

She didn’t have the words to tell him. Instead, she gently caressed his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair, all the while locking eyes with him. She could feel a tear escape as the emotions she’d been fighting for so long overwhelmed her. 

Meg slowly pulled his face to her and kissed him softly. She knew it was cliche, but she hoped that she could convey to him what she was feeling. 

Castiel’s lips were soft, and he sighed as they kissed. One of his hands was now caressing her cheek lightly, mimicking her previous actions to a tee.

Soft sighs were exchanged as Castiel lost his trench coat, and Meg’s shirt left her body. His hands explored her stomach with feather light touches, attempting to memorize every line, every scar, and every freckle. 

Meg unbuttoned his shirt while he massaged her hips. As the shirt fell back it revealed tan skin, completely unmarred due to his ability to heal himself. Small moles scattered his chest, and Meg couldn’t keep her hands from tracing them and running up and down his chest. She soaked up the warmth of him and pulled him even closer.

He pulled her into a sitting position and attempted to undo her bra. They both laughed softly as he fumbled, but eventually Castiel got it. He softly pulled the bra from her body, and then moved her into a lying position again. 

His hands were all over her. He kneaded her breasts softly, his thumbing flicking lightly over her nipples. 

She couldn’t stop the small gasps that escaped her mouth. Nor could she stop the way her body arched into him as he suckled on her, teeth lightly grazing her nipples. 

Cas kept his eyes on Meg’s face, watching to see if he was pleasing her, and redoing whatever he saw had pleased her. 

It wasn’t long until Meg was moaning and grinding into him. Castiel groaned and moved back against her, and they both scrambled to get their pants and underwear off. 

Castiel kissed his way down her body, and Meg had the fleeting thought that she should have shaved between her legs. But then Castiel was spreading her legs and tonguing at her entrance, flicking his tongue against her clit with fast strokes every so often. 

Meg was all out pleading between moans. She wasn’t quite sure why she was close to tears, but she knew it had something to do with all the emotions she was feeling. 

Castiel kept on, making her come for him hard—she drew blood on his shoulders as her nails raked him while she orgasmed—before crawling back up to kiss her so she could taste herself on him. It was intoxicating, and she wanted nothing more than to have him inside her. 

“I need help,” Cas mumbled while blushing.

Meg laughed lightly and kissed him before helping to guide him into her slowly. Meg let out a high pitched moan as he pushed into her with her help. Maybe it was because he was bigger than she expected. Maybe it had to do with the fact that this was her Clarence in her, but whatever the reason, Meg felt like her entire body was going to explode from him just being in her. 

This wasn’t going to be like any sex she’d ever had. This was going to be everything they couldn’t and didn’t know how to say to each other. It was going to be the definition of making love and becoming one with someone, and Meg was scared shitless. She’d never given herself to someone like this. Not even when she was a human. Not even her husband the warrior had looked at her with such affection and adoration. Meg wanted to hide, but Castiel stroked her cheek lightly and let out a shaky breath looking every bit as nervous as her. That’s when Meg knew it would all be okay.

They slowly moved together and tried to find a rhythm. It took a few thrusts, but then they had it, and Meg couldn’t have stopped herself from moaning if her life depended on it. Castiel’s groans matched the noises she was making, and he kept the pace slow. 

Meg was certain she was going to sing Halleljuah and praise God for creating Castiel. She pulled his face to hers, and they kissed while he moved in and out of her slowly, filling her up completely and making her beg for more while refusing to give more.

Meg felt like she was losing her mind. She wanted nothing more than for him to crash into her fast and messy, but she knew she wasn’t going to get it. This felt like light teasing. It was a slow burn building, and Meg was gasping between moans. 

“I’m getting close!” she managed to screech out between kisses. 

“Me too,” he admitted with a groan.

He placed his hand between her legs and used his thumb to massage her clit slowly. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Meg chanted as the orgasm began to build in her.

“Wanna watch you come,” Cas groaned into her ear, and she came undone.

She bucked her hips madly as she exploded, Castiel’s name being torn from her mouth. She just barely registered him telling her he was going to come too, and she begged for him to come inside her. 

She rode out the rest of her orgasm, her walls clenching around him as he filled her with a mixture of come and grace.

Castiel lowered himself down slowly on top of her while not pulling out of her. He nuzzled her neck, and Meg massaged his scalp while her body still trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm. 

“Hallelujah,” she breathed out.

Castiel chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her and held her as close and tight as possible. 

Later that night they would go again and again, but for this very moment, Meg closed her eyes and rested lightly, feeling utterly content in the arms of her angel.


	11. Chapter 11

It was a long drive to Detroit when you had this many cars full of people and things. They had to let everyone choose something to listen to, and it seemed no one had the same taste in music. Although, that might have something to do with no one being born in the same time period. Still, it was a lot more fun than Meg had expected it to be. They played car games, and with this many people, there all were able to switch out driving. So Meg didn’t have to stay awake for too long and fight the urge to fall asleep.

Cas cuddled up with her in the backseat, and when James started catcalling he got knocked in the face with a wing, much to everyone’s amusement. 

The only time they stopped was for gas, snacks, bathroom breaks, and water. Otherwise, they stayed on the road and the drivers simply switched out. It was an effective system. 

When they reached Detroit, Meg felt ready. She wouldn’t remember the pep talk she gave them all, but she knew it was one that drew cheers. They were all running on a ton of adrenaline as James searched for Crowley specifically. It took a few tries, but in the end he was able to come through.

“At some pizza shop a few blocks over,” he informed them as his eyes flew open. 

Dean swore, and it seemed out of instinct Sam took his hand in his, rubbing circles over it lightly. “What’s going on?” Sam asked softly.

“The pizza shop is the one where I met Death at. I think Crowley is there in hopes of running into Death. It’s his favorite pizza shop in the universe, after all,” Dean said with a shake of his head.

Meg nodded. “Okay. We can work with that. Half of you go in. He won’t know you aren’t human. Then Cas, me, the Winchesters, and the other half. Play this exactly like we talked about earlier. Do not let him know you aren’t a normal human. Text us how many demons are in there exactly. If we don’t receive a text, we will assume it’s a trap,” Meg informed them all.

They nodded, and the group led by James went first. The entire time they waited for them to walk the distance to the pizza shop, Meg was completely on edge. They were all armed, but it was still a scary situation. They decided to give James the Colt, as Cas had recently found a way to make more bullets for it. 

Dean was curled into Sam, inhaling the scent of his life partner. The more Meg watched them, the more she realized just how beautiful they were together. They had always been made for one another, and these battles were always hard on them. They were probably both scared they would lose the other, and Meg could definitely understand that.

Cas reached for her hand and held it, fidgeting with one of her rings. 

“It will be fine,” Cas told the group with a nod.

It was obvious he was trying to boost morale, but they all knew Castiel enough to appreciate the sentiment. So everyone nodded and gave a chorus of yeah.

“James is the best, and he’d kill Abbie herself to keep Viola safe,” the previously mute man, Logan, said. 

Everyone gave a weak laugh, but it was true. Those two had a thing going on, whether they realized it or not. They were cute together, either way. 

“Did they bang last night?” came Dean’s muffled voice, to which Sam rolled his eyes.

“Gosh, Dean!” Tricia said. She’d decided that she wanted to be Vietnamese again. “I wonder how Sam here puts up with that foul mouth of yours. But yes, they totally did. VERY loudly,” she emphasized, earning more laughter all around.

“Sammy here puts up with my foul mouth because it’s so good in bed,” Dean said with a smirk.

“LIES!” Meg yelled with a laugh. “No, this is how it is guys. Sam there is the dominant one. For all his sweet ways, he loses it in bed. Dean is the more romantic one. Dean told me last week or so when he was drunk.”

This gathered a fake foul look from Dean and a laugh from everyone else. Meg was laughing so hard herself, she barely noticed Cas wrapping his arms around her, but she sure as hell felt her phone vibrate from an incoming text. She pulled the phone out and checked it, her hands shaking so bad Cas had to hold onto her arms to steady them. 

“Okay, we have Crowley dining there, obviously, and two demons that James thinks he could take out himself. One of them is… is on our side. So be careful. And… hold on got another one… they’ve said to watch from outside for a moment. They’re going to attempt to get all the humans out by being loud and obnoxious, but he’s not sure how that will work with Crowley...”

Her Angel cleared his throat. “This is going to be where I go in. I make it look like I have business with Crowley myself. I appear directly outside the window of the pizza shop, and then I go in and distract him long enough for them to clear out any people.”

Meg flung her arms around Cas and kissed him as hard as she could. “You better be careful or so help me, Clarence,” she threatened. 

He gave her a nod before he was gone. Meg gave a sniff, trying to not worry too much, but that was easier said than done.

Logan wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her and everyone else to the pizza shop. He stopped to briefly ask Dean which way down the block, and then they all continued on. As they got closer, Logan pulled off his jacket and put it on Meg, zipping it up and pulling the hood up. 

“We want you to stay unrecognized for as long as possible. So how about this: you go in as my girlfriend. Stay close to me. I appear human, and I know I look like I’m part of the Mexican Cartel, so I really doubt anyone will look closer,” Logan said softly but loud enough for everyone else to hear.

Sam cleared his throat. “It’s a good idea, Meg. We all know stereotypes exist. So let’s make those stereotypes work for us for once. Y’all will be the next ones in, then Dean and I will go in like we were looking for Cas. Dean will make an offhand comment about how busy this place is, and go straight to Cas. A few minutes after that, or last group goes in. We have him so outnumbered that we go in for the kill before he realizes it. Got the knife?”

Meg nodded her hand. “I’m armed and ready to kill this asshole,” she said resolutely, chin jutted out. 

Logan gave a small laugh. “Alright, let’s go,” he said and pulled her to his side like he was trying to keep her warm.

That’s how they entered the pizza shop, and while Logan looked around to find their people seated and eating—some taking selfies at just the right angle to catch Crowley and Cas—Meg kept her head straight. She wanted to run over there now and kill Crowley just for looking at her boyfriend, but as another human left while muttering about noise, Meg knew this was the easiest way to do it and preserve the people in here. This was who she was now, and this was why they were doing this; to save lives. So with a deep breath, Meg clung to Logan like she would if he were Castiel and they were some college kids in an alternate universe.

Of course the very idea struck her to the core. That was a life they should have had together and would never get. All because some god decided to make supernatural beings for kicks. But then who was to say her life would ever have been anything but miserable? She would have lost her son in childbirth, been widowed, and once again a whore. There never would have been a Castiel to save her and eat pizza with. She would always have been the Welsh whore.

Logan ordered some pizza, and handed the money over to the cashier. He pointed to their diverse group, and the next thing Meg knew, she was seated with her back towards Crowley. Logan held Meg’s hand over the table, constantly looking over like he was looking at her. He leaned over the table to say something and Meg leaned over as well.

“It worked. I’m just a thug.”

And to anyone else that made no sense, which was exactly how he meant it to sound, Meg realized. Let it never be said that Logan didn’t know how to play the part he was given. 

Viola was seated next to Meg, and she kept leaning over to whisper random things about how “cute” her new boyfriend was to her. Never once did anyone break cover. Meg was beyond impressed, but these guys and gals had all been trained by the best hunters, former demon, and Angel around. Pretty soon Meg found herself getting into her role and fake gossiping with Viola, taking selfies to put on something called an Instagram, and overall acting like an idiot while keeping tabs on her boyfriend and the soon to be former King of Hell. 

Slowly all the humans trickled out, and the Winchester’s came in. Meg watched them out of the corner of her eyes walk towards Crowley, and she kept her hand in her pocket on the blade. 

It all happened so fast, but the moment Crowley saw Dean he tried to leave. Castiel was on Crowley in a second, using his powers to stop him from being able to leave the shop, and then Meg was tearing across the pizza shop, ready to slit the mongrel’s throat. Crowley managed to throw Castiel off, but he wasn’t expecting the “humans” to be able to fight him with any type of power. 

Apparently they’d warded this place while outside because even with Castiel having been thrown across the room, Crowley wasn’t able to smoke out or leave in any form or fashion. Meg’s grin became feral, and she used her hand to twist his heart slowly. As he dropped to his knees before her--which was where he'd always belonged, truth be told--Meg laughed and her army laughed with her. 

“Whore,” Crowley spat as blood ran freely out of his mouth and down his chin. 

“Whore with an army of former demons,” Meg corrected.

She relished in the look of horror that crossed his face. She also relished in the fact that his only loyalist was pinned under Logan, completely unable to fight back. Crowley’s other bodyguard was watching her reverently as she slowly sank the blade into Crowley’s heart, relishing in his demise.

Demon’s didn’t really feel pain. Not the same as humans did at any rate. But as the blood poured from the wound, Meg realized that Crowley had just been cured. There would be no going back to hell and starting over for him. He would be sent to Heaven. What they’d do with him there, Meg had no clue, but his reign was forever done with.

His body sank to the floor with a loud thud. Meg had never realized how much blood a human body could hold, but it was all over the floor now, and it was so much more than Meg had ever expected.

“Did you feel that?” James soft inquired.

Everyone nodded and mumbled that they indeed felt him become human again.

“What does that mean?” Dean barked out. It was a Dean thing; when scared, bark like a dog.

“It means,” Castiel said slowly from Meg’s left, “Crowley will be punished by God directly.”

Everyone let out low whistles, and Meg directed her attention back to Crowley’s loyalist.

“You’re going to go find Abaddon, and you’re going to tell her what happened. Tell her that I’m coming for her next, and she should be pretty damn scared,” Meg growled.

Logan threw the demon out of the shop head first, laughing loudly as he did it. It all felt very surreal to Meg. It’d happened so fast, but they came in with a solid plan and nothing had gone awry. There wasn’t much more Meg could ask for. Yet she was still shaking with anger, and now she understood why the villains in movies went on long rants before trying to kill someone.

It helped you get it out of your system. The anger was still with Meg, and she imagined if she could have drawn it out longer how much fun she would’ve had. But doing that would have led to the possibility of Crowley escaping. So she’d have to train in the gym later to let off the pent up steam she had.

Castiel went to comfort the shop owner’s by showing off his pretty wings, and Meg helped clean up the small mess they’d made. The shop owner was grateful they cleaned up everything, and apparently he was a very religious man who was more than happy to help rid the world of anything unholy. Castiel may have embellished a bit, telling him that God had chosen him specifically, knowing his faith would ensure that they would succeed in their mission of killing the demon. Meg thought she might be having a tiny bit of a bad influence on him, but the shop owner was moved and declared that they would never again pay in his shop.

“How long do you think it will take until she’s tailing us?” Dean asked.

Meg shrugged. “I can’t say for sure, but I figure it’ll be pretty soon. She’s going to try and catch us unaware. So we find any other demons here, convert them to our cause, and find a hideout until we form another solid plan.”

Dean nodded as Meg pulled out her phone and sent a quick text out to both Tessa and the Death.

_One day, one to go. Funny thing happened. Apparently God himself wants to punish Crowley?_

Meg wasn’t sure why she was even bothering with Tessa, other than the fact that she was family. But when she looked into Tessa’s face, she saw her son and herself. And if for some reason Meg didn’t make it out of this alive—was this the two month period Missouri had warned her about?—she wanted to know that she had at least tried to make amends.

Meg glanced around her to see that Castiel and Crowley’s body were gone, and that Dean was taking samples of Crowley’s blood. She bit her lip, debating on the next text. But part of her wanted to know if any of it had ever been real.

_Were we ever even friends?_

She hit send and wondered idly if Michelle would even bother responding. She’d not once texted her since Meg had up and disappeared. That should have been the answer right there. Still, she’d felt like they were. She’d felt like there was something familiar about Michelle.

Meg locked her phone and went to go help with the cleanup, which she decided was easily the worst part of any fight. They had to bleach down the floor and lightly set a fire to it so that no blood would remain. 

War was nothing like Meg had expected.


	12. Chapter 12

It was almost an unspoken agreement to head back to the Bunker and await whatever message Abaddon was sure to send them. Meg was almost holding her breath the entire car ride back, as she was sure they all were. It was a scary thought. They’d just made a huge move against her.

Crowley’s fake loyalist had gone his own way, saying he had supporters of hers that he intended to gather. Meg wasn’t too sure about it, but Jame’s sensed he was telling the truth, so let him go they did. After all, the worst he could do was report to Abaddon, the same as the other demon was already doing. 

She was glad they’d all made it out alive and unscathed, though. She hadn’t expected that, and the moment she could, she clung to Castiel and refused to let go. Everyone seemed to sense she needed a moment—or perhaps it an hour—and backed off to give her time with her Angel. 

No texts reached Meg’s phone, so she was surprised upon entering the Bunker to see Death, her granddaughter Tessa, and her supposed best friend Michelle.

“How did they get in?” Dean asked quietly while gesturing aimlessly with one finger.

“I’m the most powerful being in the Universe, Dean. That’s how,” the Horseman responded, and Meg almost expected Death to roll his eyes along with his statement. 

It showed how much Dean had grown these past few months that he merely jerked his head in a nod. Meg’s army, however, crowded behind her, obviously terrified but wanting to back her up. Or maybe it was to hide behind her, she couldn't be sure.

“I see you’ve been busy, Meghan. One down? Good. I felt the rumble in the Universe. It seems your God, Castiel, still isn’t happy about the former Angel betraying him. And yes, before you ask, he was an Angel once upon a time. Then he fell. It’s a long story,” the Grim Reaper said with a flourish of his hand.

“So now we take out Abaddon,” Meg stated, her eyes locked on Tessa while Tessa’s gaze was focused intently on the floor.

“That is the plan indeed. But you will soon find that more demons than you expect are going to turn up outside this very shack, looking to fight for you and receive the cure. Thankfully, this place is extremely isolated so humans won't be alerted.”

Meg arched a brow. “How many demons are we talking about?”

Death merely shrugged. “To you? It will be more than you could comprehend. Nothing like this has ever happened before. To me? It’s a small number of souls. But they all deserve rest. No matter what happens to you, with a cure in existence, souls can finally have a choice. Not all who are dragged to hell deserve it. Most don't in all actuality.”

“Trust me, I know. So why did you bring these two?” Meg asked abruptly for a want of subject change while gesturing to Michelle and Tessa. 

If it were anyone else asking him, they’d be testing their luck. But Meg knew he viewed her as one of his own. So while he may at times lose patience with her, he’d never actually harm her as he would others. 

“I wanted to see you,” Tessa stated softly, her eyes raising from the floor slightly.

“Really? Because you don’t act like it. I just took out the King of Hell with zero casualties, and you couldn’t even send me a congratulations text? We’re _family,_ Tessa! I don’t care what you _think_ I’ve done to wrong you. At the end of the day, we're supposed to be there for one another. That’s how you even exist. Because I gave up _my soul_ for your father’s life. If I didn’t do that? You wouldn’t be here. So maybe your father wasn’t what you wanted. But dammit, he was a great, fierce warrior who saved many lives. So what the hell is your problem with me?” Meg demanded.

Meg ignored Tessa’s trembling lip because the young woman had no response to give, and therefore Meg had no further time to give her. “And you!” Meg rounded on Michelle. You let me think we were friends! So what the hell are you even doing here after ignoring all my texts?” she demanded.

Michelle stared Meg down as she said, “We were, once upon a time, Meg. Maybe one day you’ll remember.”

Meg sneered. “Now we’re being cryptic? I remember everything, and I certainly do not remember you!”

Michelle merely smiled. “You will. I thought you might by now, but some things are still too hard, I see. Just know that when your time comes one day, hopefully very, very far away, I will be the one to reap you.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Whatever. So, is my granddaughter here going to stay and help us?” Meg asked rather angrily, trying to extend an olive branch through her anger.

Tessa nodded. “Yes. I would like very much to stay and help prepare and fight against Abaddon. I can see the between as well and with the number of projected demons, you will need both Castiel and I.”

At least this time Tessa had the decency to look Meg in the face. It helped her feel less robbed of a relationship with Tessa. 

“Good. Is there anything else I should know before I meet up with Abaddon dearest?” she questioned, her eyes on her father figure.

He sighed heavily. “You know what you need to know, Meghan. Everything will be clear in time. Even I cannot predict the future. Now, I would have brought some pizza, but it seems you just had your fill. Fancy a game of checkers?” he asked.

It took the others in the room a moment of seeing how Meg reacted before they decided Death was indeed not a threat. At least not to them with Meg there. They all ambled around, Logan and James agreeing to go with Sam and get groceries while Viola and Tricia made the rooms up, and Christopher, who rarely spoke, but just trained and was part of the new batch settled into testing all the wards.

It wasn’t long before the Bunker felt very much like home, especially since Castiel was at her side.

Looking back on that night, they would all think of it fondly. They played soft rock, some local band that they all danced to like it was their last night alive. There was pizza and beer all around even though they'd just eaten, and even the Grim Reaper joined in on the festivities. Michelle managed to capture a picture of him dancing with Meg, a picture that would later hang on the wall of the Bunker on a bulletin board, filled with other pictures from that night.

There would be one of Castiel where you could make out his wings while he kissed Meg, there would be one of a rare moment of PDA between the brothers, and there would be a sense of happiness. The pictures would live on, long after the Bunker would be abandoned and forgotten for the second time in its history. And when the next group of hunter would stumble upon it, the pictures would entrance them, and if they knew nothing else, it was that the kids who grew up too fast loved each other and always had each other’s backs. And that would be the basis for the next Men of Letters.


	13. Chapter 13

Meg woke up the next morning with Tricia cuddled up next to her for some reason. Oh, yes. Tricia had been utterly wasted, and Meg had worried about alcohol poisoning. Meg had healed her as much as possible, but considering Meg herself was drunk and Castiel was nowhere to be found, that didn’t say much. 

Thinking of Castiel, where the hell was he? Meg clambered out of the bed, stumbling slightly before righting herself. The Bunker was utterly trashed, and Meg really hoped Castiel could Angel this mess away because cleaning this was not going to be a fun way to start the day. 

When she got to the kitchen the smell of coffee, bacon, and eggs hit her, and suddenly Meg felt infinitely better. But when she saw it was Tessa and Michelle cooking, she wasn’t quite sure if she had the stomach for the food anymore. 

“Come on,” Tessa said quietly. “You’re going to need to eat to deal with what’s happening outside.”

Meg quirked an eyebrow, suddenly sobered up enough to fix coffee and eat while she watched Michelle pin tons of pictures from last night to a gigantic bulletin board.

Meg’s eyes lingered on a picture of Logan and Tricia. It seemed last night they’d really hit it off. Cute. Her favorite pictures though had to be of her and the Grim Reaper. There were several, some of them playing checkers, some of them talking, but the one of them dancing—was he doing the funky chicken? —had to be the best. For a moment, Meg allowed herself to relive last night. It would all be okay.

Dean came bustling into the kitchen, eyes alight on Meg and let out a sigh and a mumbled, “Thank God.”

“The fuck?” Meg mumbled back in way of greeting.

“Eat fast. Death didn’t exaggerate last night, Meg. We have a motherfucking situation out there.”

Dean looked stressed. There was the smell of sweat rolling off him, like he’d been running and running, and suddenly Meg was throwing back scalding coffee, shoveling eggs in her mouth, and eating bacon while flying out the Bunker in Dean’s wake, barely noticing that she was only wearing a tank top—no bra because they sucked to sleep in—and jeans.

Outside the Bunker, just beyond the wards was a crowd of about fifty demons, and they were all singing. Meg’s eyes sought out Castiel as she whispered, “Our song.”

“I suppose, if we were to have a song, this would be the one.”

“I've seen your flag on the marble arch. Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah,” the demons sang, arms pointing towards Meg, as though in worship.

“Why this song?” Meg whispered.

“Because your blood will move in them,” Clarence said simply.

Sam slowly walked up next to them, shaking his head. “I think it’s a hymn. To the both of you. The King and Queen. It’s your love song, and they’re singing it in reverence to the both of you.”

Meg and Cas found each other’s hands at the same time as the demon’s finished their song, all looking at the duo expectantly.

“Sam… what do we do now? How do we know they all are here for the purpose of helping us?” Meg worried.

“Well, if they aren’t, they’ll become an easily killable human. Problem solved,” Castiel said in that low voice that had a way of sending shivers up her spine. 

“So no matter what,” Meg began slowly, “We have the upper hand in this one?” she finished, questioning both men.

“I think so, Meg,” Sam confirmed. “I don’t think we can lose. You just saved all of these demons from Crowley, and they’re praising you. It’s time to convert them. Either we start now and fast, or we get jumped by Abaddon,” he explained.

Meg nodded with a sigh. “Someone, get Logan, James, and the vials of my blood. I need to get dressed. Have them tell the demons I will be out shortly to greet them all,” Meg said softly before leading Castiel back into the Bunker.

The only thing keeping her standing as they started up another round of _their_ song—flashbacks to France and this song playing in the motel room, how could anyone know? —was Castiel’s hand wrapped around hers.

“It is our song,” he said finally, to which Meg nodded.

“That area right outside of Paris,” Meg responded softly. “You found me, and you were painting me. This song played. I remember.”

How could she not? She’d been naked, exposed, and Castiel had used a brush, painting her. It’d reminded Meg of the Titanic, but the end result was glorious. She looked like a Goddess. Next thing she knew, the painting hung in a real gallery. “So they can see your thorny beauty forever,” he’d said confidently.

And she’d looked like a thorny rose. Beautiful, but deadly. It had been nowhere near sexual. He still wasn’t in his right mind, and how was sex with someone who couldn’t consent enjoyable—or okay? It wasn’t. 

Meg donned some fresh clothes, and by the time she was outside, half the group of demons were in chains and sobbing.

“Well,” Meg muttered to herself. “That was fast.”

Sam stood near Logan, helping with the proceedings, but the demons seemed on edge. That is until they saw Meg approaching. Suddenly they all relaxed as she crossed the warded area—they really needed to reburn the sigils into the grass—and came closer to her.

Then she was being crowded. Everyone wanted to grab a hold of her and half of them were crying. Meg looked around for Castiel who pushed his way to her side. The demons were interested in him as her partner, but they only had eyes for her. And all they could seem to do was thank her endlessly. Even the ones in chains were screaming praises of thanks.

It went on for what felt like hours, and Meg must have talked to every single demon. But with Castiel out there, disappearing to the end to where the demons were in chains to help heal them as needed, Meg felt like she could do anything. This was her army. And she had a feeling it was only the beginning.

It was late afternoon when Meg managed to escape the crowd of demons—some now almost human—to tend to her own basic human needs. It seemed like a meeting of sorts was taking place in the bunker between the girls, but as Meg entered they quieted. 

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all,” Meg bit out, her tone sharp and cutting.

How could you trust people who avoided speaking in front of their own leader?

Tessa spoke up first. “I… we were just talking about how effective it was. I told one demon that any loyal to you should find a vacant body so the cure would be ready for them. That’s why so many are being cured. Most of them were homeless and dying. We were just talking about how interesting it is that they want to please you so much that they’re willing to do anything they’re asked. Even if it goes against their nature,” Tessa clarified.

“They just survived a regime change, and they’re placing their faith in me to not get us all killed by Abaddon. And if we do? At least they don’t go back to hell, Tessa. Don’t you get it? The people you are talking to were once demons, too. They wanted the cure for the same reason as those demons out there: To get into Heaven. This is the only way. It’s cleansing souls.”

“So these demons out there,” Meg continued, “were never loyal to Crowley. They were just trying to survive for eternity. Now? They see an end in sight. And end that isn’t fire, racks, and being sliced into for eternity. Because I’ve been there and done that since shortly after biblical times, Tessa. That’s centuries. Remember?” she growled, and Tessa nodded.

“I didn’t realize it was so bad,” Tessa muttered in her defense.

“It’s hell, Tessa. It _makes_ us demons. So yeah, it’s bad,” Meg spat before stalking off to shower. 

Cas had to teleport into her room as Meg refused to open the door to anyone after that. He didn’t say anything, just laid down next to her naked form and held her as she seethed with rage towards Tessa.

She wanted to try with her granddaughter, but then Tessa would go and do or say something so idiotic. And she’d been saying that to Meg’s allies? Meg wanted to rip out her throat. That would certainly get rid of Tessa physically for the time being; until she found another vessel at least.

“More have come,” Castiel whispered softly, his ear nuzzling her hair.

“How many more?” she asked hoarsely, hoping her voice didn’t betray that’d she spent her shower crying like the human she was.

“Thrice the number there was. All those cured are donating quarts of blood now, and we’re using the blood on hand. If we hadn’t been preparing every day for months, this wouldn’t be enough,” he stated as he gripped her tightly.

“Do we need to take more blood from me, and have you healed me so I can give more, etc.?” Meg pondered.

She felt Castiel shaking his head. “Blood doesn’t work like that. When you replenish it, the blood is no longer the same. There would be grace in it, and that in low doses is dangerous for the demons. The more we replenished your blood, the more lethal it would become to demons. The more blood we draw from you, the riskier it is now that Abaddon knows our location has been given away because you wouldn’t be fit to fight. You’d be tired from giving out bags of blood to cure demons. We can only keep drawing from those we have. It will be enough.”

Castiel’s voice was stern and left no real room for argument. So Meg turned in his arms to face him, studying his face, trying to memorize it.

“She’s coming, Clarence,” Meg half whispered, half choked.

Cas nodded with a deep sigh. “I know.”

“One of us could die.”

Cas gripped her tighter, trying to merge their two forms into one. “No,” he gritted out.

“Cas,” she whispered as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I won’t lose you, Meg,” he practically ordered.

“But, Cas,” she choked out, the tears starting to flow, “You could. Or we could lose Sam. Or Dean. Or Logan. Or James. Or Viola. The list goes on. We can’t all make it out alive, Cas. We just can’t.”

To say Castiel looked heartbroken was an understatement. “We have to, Meg. I love you.”

Meg buried her face in Cas’ neck and cried freely while he rocked her lightly. None of them were truly prepared for Abaddon, and they never would be. There would always be casualties, and as awful as it was, Meg could only hope it was one of the new recruits. She loved the little gang she had. She didn’t want any of them split up. But Meg had the sinking feeling as the hours passed that something was going to happen that would change their group forever. 

She wasn’t even so much afraid of taking on Abaddon. She was afraid of dying with Abaddon. Or Castiel playing the hero and going down. Or just a number of things. 

That night they made love frantically, terrified about what would greet them in the mornings to come. Meg was fairly sure the whole Bunker could hear them, as she half moaned, half cried the entire time, chanting “I love you” like a mantra. 

But if anyone heard anything that morning, or any of the mornings to follow, they said nothing about it. Tessa just slid her a cup of coffee like usual while Michelle delivered a plate of food. And so would begin their mornings in the Bunker. 

They’d added onto the Bunker, using their new army to help construct additions that were sure as hell needed. Suddenly the small Bunker seemed like a Mansion with dozens of bathrooms, kitchens, and common areas. There was always life bustling about, and for awhile it seemed like nothing could be better.

Someone had an idea to start a chicken coop, and suddenly eggs were the food of choice. Then they were planting apple trees, plowing small fields, and buying three pigs. Meg couldn’t look at them as piglets and think she’d someday eat them. But life was great, and Meg could almost forget that Abaddon was even out there, attempting to keep hell going.

Until she showed up on their doorstep, attempting to blast her way into the bunker and failing miserably.


	14. Chapter 14

At first there was nothing. They felt the Bunker shaking, but they were underground, what could possibly get at them?

At first they’d thought it an Earthquake, but when Sam had taken a closer look at the huge devices that Meg understood nothing about, he shook his head and let out a sigh. “She’s trying to unearth the entire Bunker, Meg,” he stated as he rubbed a hand over his face and hit the panic alarm.

Immediately everyone flew into action. Weapon vaults were being opened, people were getting strapped into combat gear, and others were preparing medical supplies. It was all a part of the plan. They’d run drills hundreds of times it seemed, always ready for this moment. The more prepared they were, the more efficient they would be when Abaddon finally did arrive. 

“The Bunker is fortified,” Meg yelled over the alarm, “What does she hope to accomplish by digging us up?”

Sam merely shrugged. “You know her best. Scare tactic?” he questioned.

It was Meg’s turn to shrug, but something about this all felt desperately off. 

“Turn off the alarms!” she yelled suddenly, and all Sam could do was stare until she loudly repeated herself.

Meg grabbed the intercom system, flicking the switch that would allow only those in the bunker to hear. No use in showing their hand to Abaddon yet.

“Everyone, listen carefully. Abaddon is possibly attempting to use the Earth around the Bunker to cover the sigils burnt into the trees and grass. I need everyone whose good at telekinesis at the ready to combat her from inside. Everyone else, continue on with battle plans!”

Meg sighed deeply as she looked over at Sam, who looked insanely troubled. This was it. The big battle. The moment they’d all been waiting for. As Meg looked around the room at the cameras, she saw the people she’d come to think of as family. They’d all been there for her and for each other. How many nights had there been jam sessions outside in the courtyard they’d built? How many of their stories did she know now?

Rosa was walking purposefully, and it looked like she was barking out orders. Rosa was a woman who’d sold her soul during WWII to keep her female lover from being sent to a concentration camp. The story had brought Meg to tears. How Rosa had taken a meatsuit and tracked her lover down. Said lover had been old and gray, but alive. 

All these people, and Meg was about to lose some of them. But Meg pushed the thought as far down as she could. If she thought about that now, she wouldn’t be able to do what she needed to do: kill Abaddon.

“Where’s Cas?” she mumbled to Sam as hunched over the screen, her eyes desperately searching.

“Probably using his telekinesis to fight against her like you just ordered people to do, Meg. He’s a soldier, he’s going to consider it his duty to fight. That’s one of his strengths,” Sam explained slowly.

Meg shook her head. “I don’t want him fighting, Sam. He’s going to get himself killed. I have to-I have to find him,” she said.

Before Sam could argue that she wasn’t thinking rationally and was using her head instead of her heart, Meg was out of the control room, pushing past everyone in the hall, screaming Castiel’s name over and over.

It was Tessa who reached her first. Her soldiers—well, her family—assumed she needed Castiel for a mission or something. He was her right hand. They understood that. When Tessa grabbed her, Meg tried to pull away, her mind on finding Cas, but Tessa’s grip was firm on Meg's arm. Meg looked back at her in confusion as everyone pushed past each other in the halls. 

“He has his job to do, as do you and as do I. We need to get ready and now.”

With that, Tessa was half dragging Meg to her room where the best of the best would be. Meg was going to be surrounded by the fighters who were most adept. “Castiel will meet us there eventually, Meg. Right now we need to focus on surprising her. Dean is organizing the first wave of the attack, so we have that covered.”

Meg nodded along and tried to slip into warrior mode. She knew this was what it was all about. She quickly got dressed for battle, wearing clothes that would allow her to move quickly and easily. Combat boots were a must, as the terrain was now going to be uncertain out there. The Bunker no longer felt like it was shaking, but they could be physically staging the battle now, so that wasn’t much to go on.

Meg pulled her hair back and tried to pin it up but failed. Tessa helped with a small smile.

“Are you scared?” Tessa asked her.

“Terrified. Not of anything happening to me, but of losing one of you. We’ve all had this amazing time. We’ve got rooms where everyone has boards covered in pictures. We all have duties. We’re all so happy. And someone will die today, even if it’s just one person. There’s going to be someone here who was close to that person. Someone who loved them or was falling in love with them. There will be a hole there that will never be fixed. So, yes, Tessa, I’m absolutely terrified.”

Tessa nodded slowly as she now worked to secure her own hair. Logan entered the room with Sam behind him and their small, original group slowly trailed in.

“Dean is starting the first attack. She wasn’t expecting this many hundreds of demons, and she really expected a smaller Bunker. We also lucked out that we had some demon’s traveling in for the cure. They’ve helped try and stop her as well. It seems to be about a hundred of them to add to the fight. So it seems pretty good.”

“And Cas?” Meg demanded.

“He was helping them concentrate the efforts to stop the Bunker from being dug up, and then picked up and tossed. Which was what he was thinking she was attempting to do. A bit more dramatic. He should be here soon,” Sam tried to assure her.

Meg just nodded, but she knew she would feel better once Cas was there beside her. She always did. 

Meaningless talk filled the room, and it was about another five minutes before Dean and Cas wandered in carrying two duffle bags. When Meg quirked an eyebrow Dean shrugged.

“Beheading her would help you, so I got us all some blades. Anyway, we might be able to slow her down,” Dean explained as he passed the bag to his left.

Everyone took a blade of their choosing, finished suiting up, and Meg finally noticed the quiet in the Bunker. It was finally their turn to go out there and do some damage. Cas grabbed for her hand.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promised.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because we will be okay,” he stated simply.

Tessa snorted. “Arrogant much?” she teased as she did up boots that looked a lot like Meg’s.

Meg wondered as they walked if the younger woman had tried to match her. She certainly was trying to be a lot kinder these last weeks. They’d bonded a lot. And now here they were, facing down Abbie Dearest together like a real family. Because what family didn’t kill a Knight of Hell together, and then have to fix their house? 

“All right, time to rock and roll I guess. Try and not get killed. I really would rather not bury anyone in this room,” Meg told them.

“Aww, we love you, too, Meg,” James said with a grin, and Logan was all out laughing.

“I did not say love. I like you, some days. Love would be stretching it,” Meg teased with a huge grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan interjected, “But you totally played my girlfriend!”

Logan and James high five while screaming about how the Queen played his girlfriend. Men were literal five year olds. This was war, and they were excited over that?

“Seriously? Well, I don’t play at being Castiel’s girlfriend.”

So what if she couldn’t keep the huge smile off her face when she said it, or if all the girl's awwed? As Castiel laced his fingers with hers, Meg grabbed her sickle. As they made their way through the Bunker, she felt pretty damn satisfied.

The carnage that greeted themselves outside was better and worse than she’d expected. 

Abaddon was snapping necks left and right, laughing while she did it, her red hair blowing in the wind. She wasn’t so much as breaking a sweat, and Meg doubted that Abaddon could even see her yet.

“Why are you all fighting me?” Abaddon’s voice carried. “I’m not here for war.”

“So what are you here for?” Meg yelled out, careful to stay in the area protected still by the sigils. 

Dean signaled to the soldiers to fall back behind the line as well, and they did. About a hundred lay dead, and Meg tried not to look too closely to see if she knew them. Castiel let go of her hand before Abaddon spotted them, and Meg said nothing, although she saw no reason to hide it from her. No matter what Abaddon proposed, Meg intended on killing her.

“Meghan?” Abaddon questioned.

Meg nodded. “I would say you look pretty different yourself, but true forms don’t really change much, do they?”

Abaddon quirked a brow curiously. “You can still see that?”

“Oh, yeah. There’s a lot of stuff I can still do. Most of it better. But you said a few moments ago something about not being here for war?” Meg asked innocently.

“Really, Meg? We can’t even catch up for a moment? What, you don’t like my meatsuit?” Abaddon pouted. 

It had always been like her to flirt with everything that moved. Meg tilted her head in mock contemplation. 

“It’s much better than the last one. You were that frail, elderly woman for far too long. I hated that one,” Meg replied nonchalantly. 

“Thanks, doll. Now, down to business. I’m a bit offended that my own family comes back from the dead and doesn’t make any attempts to see me,” Abaddon said slowly.

“But I’m guessing since you’re here now you’ve seen the error of your ways?” Meg questioned.

Abaddon smirked like she was picturing ripping out Meg’s throat. “So we both dropped the ball on that. But we are family, and I was thinking as a family, we should be united in restoring Hell to its former glory. Lucifer let us down, it’s true. He betrayed us. But you killed Crowley as easily as swatting a fly, and now we can shift the balance of power and bring back the good old days. So, sister, what do you say?” Abaddon asked with a smirk. 

Meg titled her head and walked just up to the edge of where the sigils ended. “So why kill my people and destroy my home? You’re scared of me, Abbie, and you should be because you aren’t leaving here alive. No smoking out in a three mile radius,” Meg said with a feral grin.

And it was true. One of the newer recruit's ideas. They’d spent time carving sigils into trees. It’d taken not as long as one would think, and it worked. Meaning Abaddon was physically stuck. 

Meg wasn’t sure who broke the line first, but tons of her soldiers were flooding Abaddon, and as Abaddon punctured them and left them to bleed out, Castiel attempted to heal them. It was a job that worried Meg, but in any war they needed a red cross.

Meg fell back slightly, watching as Abaddon flung people around, broke necks, and used the entrails to hang living soldiers from trees. But Abaddon would wear down or slip up. There would be a chink in her armor somewhere, and Meg would find it.

Meg was projecting her thoughts out to Castiel to get back. He was far too close to her, and Meg sure as hell didn’t want him hurt when she realized Abaddon had heard. 

It all happened so fast. Castiel and Abaddon were suddenly grappling, Cas shoving his Angel blade towards her. And while others were trying to help, Abaddon’s backup had arrived. And suddenly Castiel wasn’t a treetopper but lit up like a Christmas tree, and Meg could feel his grace leaving his body and flow into hers, even as she screamed no. Even as all the fighting stopped and everyone stumbled backwards to watch her absorb his grace.

But Meg didn’t care. She just needed to get to Clarence because she had to fix this. She didn’t even pay attention to herself shoving Abaddon off him as she held his body close. His eyes, once so bright and blue, were dull.

“No, no, Cas. Come back,” she whimpered.

Almost instinctively she placed her hand on his chest, healing his stab wound with the grace she’d just absorbed, but it didn’t bring Castiel back. He was gone where she couldn’t go, and the only thing she could do was kill the person responsible. 

She closed his eyes and slowly stood up and faced Abaddon who was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and horror. 

“You. Fucking. Bitch,” Meg spat.

She couldn’t see Abaddon as everything was hazy and black. But she could feel her, and she could feel the need to wring her neck.

And then she let the rage loose. Energy seemed to pour from her body and white light flooded everything. While Meg wasn’t sure what was happening, she could hear Abaddon screaming and begging for mercy like a child. The screams fueled Meg’s rage and it went on and on until all Meg knew was blackness.

When Meg opened her eyes she was lying on her bed in the bunker with Tessa next to her. The moment she went to sit up, Tessa was hovering. 

“Oh, thank God. We have Abaddon chained in the dungeon, but we weren’t sure if you’d ever wake up to finish her off after you tortured her," Tessa babbled while handing Meg a glass of water.

Meg took it and sipped. “What did I even do? Besides making blinding light.”

“You made her feel every bit of pain she has ever caused anyone else. Ever. It’s… the essence of Karma. She’s still not recovered from it, and she shakes like crazy if anyone goes near her that she’s wronged. I know you’ve been through a lot with what happened two days ago but-”

Meg choked. “It’s been two days?” she demanded.

Tessa nodded slowly. “We couldn’t wake you, and I called my boss, but he couldn’t do anything either. He said your mind put you into the state you needed to work through having grace. Until you use it all. If you do. He said… if you chose… and you might want to… you could literally keep Castiel’s essence with you forever. Or until your passing that is.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Meg said sharply, grabbing the sickle from her night stand.

She didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d basically been in a coma, or her boyfriend had just died. She wanted to see the effects her torture had on Abaddon, and she wanted to torture the bitch some more before she killed her. Hell, she could probably work Abaddon over for eternity and have that never be enough.

As she stomped towards the dungeon everyone seemed to try and talk to her. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to be someone who didn’t feel anymore. She didn’t want a heart because then she wouldn’t have to think about spending eternity with a cold, empty bed instead of her winged boyfriend with his too big heart. 

Meg flung the dungeon door open harder than necessary, and when Abaddon saw her, she did indeed start shaking like a leaf. Good.

“Ready to pay the piper?” Meg asked.

“Just kill me,” Abaddon begged. 

“Oh, I will, after I make you pay,” she promised as she cut thin strips into Abaddon’s hand to test the weight of the blade.

Tessa was on Meg in an instant, pulling her away from Abaddon, screaming stop so loudly that the Winchester’s came running in. No matter. Meg didn’t need the blade for torture.

It took both Sam and Dean to drag Meg out of the dungeon, and by that time she’d used her powers to rip off all of Abaddon’s fingernails and shatter just the tips of her fingers themselves. Something that was a lot more painful than it sounded as people always used the tips of their fingers directly. Abaddon would feel it every time she so much as reached for a glass of water.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean demanded.

“Apparently I’m thinking I’m the only who cared about Cas, since you’ve had Abaddon in here for two days, and she looks fucking fine,” Meg retorted. 

Dean’s face twisted up, and Sam pulled them away from each other. “Both of you need to cool it. Meg, you already tortured her mentally. She’s broken and begging for death. Just end this now,” Sam pleaded.

“No.”

“This isn’t what Cas would want,” Sam tried again.

“Well, we could ask him if he wasn’t dead because of her. But he is dead. You two don’t get it. You live, you die. But we have to live forever, and so we love forever. And so I’ll want to kill myself every second of every day forever. So why can’t I just get to hack at the bitch who made this happen instead?” Meg demanded.

“Because then why did any of us sign up to follow you?” Logan asked softly from behind her.

Meg turned slightly to face him.

“I know you’re hurting right now, and that you think there’s no end in sight. But we’re here not just because we wanted to be cured. We’re here because we believed you were the non-violent solution. If you go in there and prove us wrong, what do you really think is going to happen? Because it’ll feel like Crowley all over again. And I’m telling you this as your friend, Meg,” Logan explained.

Meg sighed as she balled up a fist. “But Cas is dead, Logan.”

“Yeah. But his essence is inside of you. It lives inside of you for as long as you choose to keep it. That’s fuckin’ poetic. And on top of it, you’ll die one day. Freak accidents do happen. You can’t tell me that as a demon you didn’t have your fair share of freak accidents that would have killed a human,” Logan insisted.

And yeah, he was right. She’d gone through phases even, where she’d fallen from building ledges, had a piano fall on her, fallen down seventeen flights of stairs, you name it, Meg probably had it happen to her meatsuit. So she simply nodded as tears fell.

“After all we’ve already done and will continue to do, I don’t believe in a God who won’t let you two be together. But going in there and torturing her won’t lead you down the path of seeing him on the other side. It will take you away from it because you will never, ever get enough, and you know it. So do the right thing and just end this.”

In that moment, Meg loved and hated Logan for telling her the truth she needed but didn’t want to hear.

Meg took a deep breath, the blade suddenly very heavy in her hand. She had nothing more than a desire to plant it firmly in Abaddon. 

She strode back into to the dungeon, Abaddon sitting there broken, and for a moment it was like she could feel Castiel’s voice of reason telling her that a true Queen would show mercy. She turned back to look as others gathered to watch and see if she would continue the torture or not. But the less she thought about torturing Abaddon, the more she felt Cas’ grace thrumming through her.

She took a deep, shaky breath. “Abaddon, for crimes against humanity, your punishment is death by execution without trial.”

Meg let her words spread and waited to see if anyone would say anything about it. Besides a few cheers there was radio silence as everyone waited.

“Have you been given a last meal?” Meg inquired.

Abaddon nodded.

“Do you have any last words?” 

Abaddon didn’t even look at Meg as she said, “Long live the Queen.”

Meg went for the heart, knowing it would be easier on the vessel too. Josie was too far broken, and she felt the women depart skyward, felt Castiel’s grace rejoice. Then Meg felt guilty. She would have tortured Josie as well just to get back at Abaddon.

Abaddon’s body simply slumped forward, Abaddon’s essence eradicated. And as Meg looked at it, she sighed. It was a sad sight to see.

“Be gentle with this body. This was Josie Sands. She loved Henry Winchester, and Abaddon used her body for decades to kill him and every other Winchester. She deserved better. Bury her like a hunter. She was a Woman of Letters, and she deserves our respect,” Meg commanded.

Logan slowly saddled up to Meg. “How do you know all that?” he whispered as people around them respectfully removed the body to prepare for burial. 

“The grace, I suppose. I can just… feel it. I could feel her soul the moment the sickle pierced her heart. She was able to finally find peace. And it was like I could feel Castiel rejoice over it. But inside my veins. His remaining grace is what’s rejoicing,” she explained. 

Logan nodded slowly. “Well… she’s gone. I expect we’ll have to get rid of some of her supporters too. But it looks like Hell will slowly stop to exist if we keep giving out the cure.”

“Do you really think that?” Dean asked from behind them. “I mean, could this really be the way we get rid of Hell?” 

Meg shrugged. “There’s still so many un-answered questions. I guess we have to go the slow path this time and see,” she said with a sad smile.


	15. Chapter 15

The Grim Reaper glared at Michelle. 

“I think she needs you,” Michelle stated again.

“What Meghan needs is time. Her heart is still healing from a huge loss. One I wish I could have prevented. But before I could do anything, Castiel’s god intervened. He gave her Cas’ grace. She is able to speak with him anytime she wishes. She isn’t just in mourning. When she goes into meditation, she is speaking to him. His essence and thus he is in her. Are all of you that slow witted?” he gritted out.

Michelle’s hand flew out and slapped his shoulder. “Just because I’m not a celestial being doesn’t mean you can talk down on me. I’m your wife,” she reminded him. 

“Do you ever let me forget?” he inquired of her. 

“I’m just wondering, what harm would it do to tell Meg she’s our daughter? To let her know she’s loved? And to tell Tessa she’s our great-granddaughter?” Michelle cried out.

This was becoming a fairly common argument among the couple.

Death sighed. “Not right now, Michelle. Let Meghan adjust to things as they are for now. She has a long road ahead of her. She’s essentially cleansing all of hell and creating a new race that will help the Angel’s protect the Earth from those who refuse to be, or cannot be, cleansed. We can’t put so much on her plate. And her and Tessa are just now starting to really get along like a family should. Without prompting. Don’t push,” he reminded and Michelle sighed.

“She just seems so withdrawn and broken. Every time I see her, she’s crying. I feel like giving God a piece of my mind, and I would if I didn’t know you well enough to know you already have!” she cried and threw her hands up. 

Death shrugged. “There may have been some words spoken about how my daughter’s after life better be exactly what she wants with who she wants, yes. I may recall something similar to that.”

At this Michelle smiled and kissed her husband’s cheek. “I knew you would. Or I’d be tearing him in two myself. I mean really, what god writes a story where the Angel doesn’t just smite the freaking demon? He’ll say 'writing’s hard' or some bullshit. Give the kids free will and let’s be done with it! No one had to die! Well, Abaddon did, and she’s dead thankfully, but I was just starting to like my son-in-law!”

Death sighed. “She will be happy. She has family, and we will tell her when she’s ready. Eventually this Bunker won’t be needed, and this will all be a page in history. An amazing page that Meg was a part of that turned the tide and saved humanity. Let her be happy about it and sad about it and confused about it for now. She’ll grieve and move on with her grief, and she will forever carry him in her,” he told his wife as he held her in his arms. 

“And in the end,” he said finally, to no one really, “She was part of one hell of a story.”


End file.
